Diary: Stages

The stages:

1. awareness: subject becomes aware that some men wear women's clothing for a sexual kick
   
   • - understands that it's not just for fags
2. awakening: subject understands the erotic appeal
   
   • understands the inherent femininity of women's underwear, skirts, bathing suits, etc.
   • feels a slight flush of curiosity about bondage scenarios with forced feminization, and what it would do to a man
3. experimentation: subject is curious enough to try for himself
   
   • tries on some fetish (stockings, underwear, bathing suit, whatever) either by "force" (visit to a dominatrix) or out of boredom, and fulfills himself sexually with it
     
4. humiliation: subject begins to worry that his experiments are destroying his manhood
   
   • as experimentation repeats, and becomes a habit, our subject denies himself as much as possible
   • rationalizes by saying he likes the feel of tight silk against his crotch, that it has nothing to do with panties being feminine
5. escalation: subject tries on skankier and skankier clothes, as his humiliation drives his desire (this may require more explanation)
   
   • prolonged privation leads to exponentially increased desire: the longer he goes without wearing panties (or whatever), the more extreme his fantasies become.
     This is absolutely key: his fantasies from the beginning are about becoming feminine, but he's hardly even aware of it.  It drives his first fantasies, but doesn't fully enter his consciousness, because he's rationalizing it.  As he denies himself, the fantasies, unfulfilled, have more time to develop, and creep more into his conscious mind.  When he eventually gives in to his irrational desires, mere panties aren't good enough: in his fantasies, he's becoming completely female, and so he wants his reality to come closer to his overwhelming fantasy.  He gets himself a bra, and is shocked at how it magnifies his climax.  It also magnifies his shame, and leads him to deny himself again.  This in turn leads to even more outrageous fantasies, which he eventually fulfills by wearing something even more feminine.  Before he knows it, he's wearing lingerie, stockings, heels, makeup, etc. and hating himself more and more for it.
   • "I'm not gay"
   • subject is in denial about his secret cocksucking fantasies
   • subject invariably feels deep shame when he comes, and when not under the grip of his fantasies, wants to abandon them (which makes them so much more potent)
     
6. capitulation: subject accepts and understands that he now wants to be a girl (still privately)
   
   • accepts that he dresses up because he wants to be feminine
   • unabashedly fantasizes about sucking cock
7. exhibition: subject comes out of closet
   
   • everything was hidden up to now.
   • wears at least something feminine at all times
   • strives to go out in drag, hoping to pass
   • parties at gay bars, trolling for cock
   • gets fucked by men
8. transformation: subject strives to physically become a woman through surgery, hormones, etc.
   
• ultimate fulfillment: growing boobs, having vaginoplasty, feeling a cock pump giz into neovagina

A Morning Adventure

I took the morning off from work because I'm expecting a delivery of furniture between 10:30 and 12:30. We've just moved, and I've been surrounded by clutter for the last few days, including piles of ___'s underwear, shoes, and various other fantasy-inducing ultra-feminine items. I've been holding it together quite well, mainly from the fatigue of lugging heavy boxes and furniture, but every now and then something catches my eye, and I briefly speculate about putting on something girly.

I crawled into bed last night completely free of such thoughts. As I drifted off to sleep, I nearly jolted awake remembering that I would have the morning mostly to myself! I immediately began to fantasize about wearing stockings, or maybe ___'s fishnet tights. I'd have her entire wardrobe at my disposal. I fell asleep thinking about some of her more elaborate lingerie.

While I stayed in bed watching her get ready, I was eager to get into something -- anything! -- feminine. I wanted to slip into the black and pink silk nightie she had under her pillow. I wanted to steal a pair of her panties. I controlled myself, and waited patiently for her to leave. Then I calmly took care of some business while having a leisurely breakfast.

Unfortunately, I realized then that I had a quick errand to run, and that I had better do it well before the delivery arrives. But I didn't want to lose time I could have otherwise spent feminizing myself. The best solution, I realized, would be to put on some lingerie, and hide it with my regular clothes as I ran my errand. This would satisfy my craving, and it would give me the added thrill of secretly running around town in frilly panties.

With heart aflutter, I retired to the bedroom, carefully picking through piles of clothes, in search for ___'s black bustier, matching panties, and stockings. I was eager to feel stockings on my legs, and I wanted a feminine treat, and this is the most outrageously feminine outfit I could think of. I chuckled as I put on my own jeans and t-shirt, luxuriating in the sensation of my legs in stockings and garters. I didn't bother with socks, for an added thrill.

Within 10 minutes, I had accomplished my mission, and returned home completely undetected. I could now frolic around to my heart's content for an hour or so until the delivery arrived.

Naturally, I couldn't do this without proper shoes, so I rummaged through a box where I knew I could find the one pair of ___'s shoes I can actually squeeze my feet into. As I sat down near the front door to buckle the sandal strap of the first shoe around my ankles, I heard voices outside. I dismissed them, thinking they must be neighbors, and certainly not the deliverymen I was expecting to show up more than an hour later. As I was working my way into the other shoe, there was a knock on the door.

Panicked, I shouted to please give me a minute. Twice. With one shoe on, I hopped into the bedroom, desperate to divest myself of this embarrassing outfit. There was no way I could remove the shoes, stockings, and corset in any reasonable amount of time. There was no way I would let anyone catch the slightest hint of me like this. The only way was to put on my jeans and t-shirt again, with a loose sweater to avoid showing bra straps and cups through the shirt. But there was one more problem: my stockinged feet.

Since I had no time (nor desire, truly) to unhook the stockings from the garters, my feet were obviously in black hose. This would surely be most obvious to the deliverymen. I needed to hide my feet somehow. Amazingly, it took me an agonizing 5 seconds or so to think of putting on socks. When the idea finally occurred to me, I realized that I had no idea where my socks were. I was panicking, knowing that the deliverymen were waiting at the door. Then it came to me: while I had no idea which pile contained my socks, I remembered that some recently laundered ones sat on a chair, right by the front entrance. But that would also be suicidal. As I calmed myself down, I noticed a pair in a laundry basket, and coolly put them on.

The men dropped off my furniture, oblivious to the secrets I share with Victoria. They were an hour early, and caught me quite literally with my pants down. Within ten minutes of moving boxes around and a polite amount of small talk, they left.

I had dodged a bullet. As an added bonus, I now had the rest of the morning to play dress-up. I practically tore off my man clothes, and put the sexy sandals back on as soon as they were gone. Then I put on a gorgeous little skirt and strutted around for a while. I like to prolong my pleasure by doing mundane things around the house en femme. I write this now wearing the same outfit described above. Perhaps there will be more.

Have I learned nothing from my adventure this morning?