Mind games in the office

Just the other day I was down in the canteen with two female work colleagues chatting to them as we waited for our afternoon fix of caffeine when another woman we all knew walked past and said quite casually "Hello ladies...". This immediately caused my two colleagues to start giggling as I began to play up to the remark.

"How dare she.... couldn't she see me." I protested to them.

They both continued laughing and mentioned that perhaps I had something to hide that she knew about!

I could feel myself becoming more and more aroused as they continued their teasing and wanted to bring even more humiliation onto myself.

"Well, now you ladies mention it...."

Those were the magic words and both Kirstie and Angie ramped up the teasing.

Kirstie took the lead and was quite matter of fact with me...

"So, you want to be a woman. You know we are a transgender friendly company and we would do all we can to help you transition. Would you like me to contact HR for you...."

"Now you mention it, I was wondering if you could help...." I replied, eager to play along with this scenario.

"Certainly, perhaps I could offer you advice on your clothing and make up. It can be such a difficult time for some girls to deal with and I'd offer as much help as possible. I'll look through the policies when I'm back at my desk"

I was starting to feel my clitty swell in my panties as she talked. If only they both knew what I was wearing underneath my suit trousers! It was times like these that my chastity cage would have came in handy.

"That would be perfect Kirstie. I was so worried...."

Angie then began to join in the verbal horseplay.

"So you like to crossdress.... become a woman.... maybe come and sit with the other admin girls some day? We're going to need a name for  you when you join them"

I laughed and asked them to pick one for me. I so wanted to blurt out Fiona but wanted to see what name they chose for me.

Kirstie began reeling off names...

"Hannah? Lucy? Sally? Maybe Vicky? I've always liked Vicky...."

"Hmmm, they're okay but I don't think they're really me.... I like Fiona, I think..."

Kirstie raised her eyebrows and almost looked pleased with my suggestion and nodded to Angie.

"Fiona it is then.... now let's get back to work" and with that we returned to our desks where I sat quite uncomfortably for the next ten minutes or so!

That evening as I was shaving my body in the bath I replayed the incident again and again eager to squeeze every piece of humiliation out of it. Kirstie was good at what she said. Too good. I think that she has had experience of someone - an ex-boyfriend perhaps - as she was very straight laced about what she was saying whereas Angie just wanted a laugh out of it - which was no problem to me as I enjoy being humiliated by women. Even more so when I see them every day and they now have an in joke with which to have a laugh at my expense with.


During the next couple of days both of them called me Fiona at some point and I laughed about it with them. It seems as if the Fiona we all know and love has come out to two of her workmates. If only they knew the half of it...

Naughty Fi Captions...again

Mistress Isabella and Fi

The Salon Visit

I've always loved beauty salons. Even when I was a child I'd crane my head to get a peek in one as I walked past. The combinations of smells, beauty treatments, good looking staff and customers proved to be a heady combination for me. Even the fact I'd no idea what went on inside one added to their appeal. The first time I ever properly visited one was when I went in on a whim one morning whilst in town shopping. I'd been thinking about it for ages. It was a mixture of taboo and fantasy for me. Could I have my legs waxed? Would I have my eyebrows shaped? Dare I go in and wax my legs? I'd been building up to it for months. This particular one, Beauty in the City, was on a side street and was at that time advertising two for the price of one deals, so with it being relatively I went in to enquire. The receptionist on duty was an absolute gem and answered all of my questions. She was in her late teens, slim and gorgeous. My ideal woman. Two for one meant that they would do a free chest wax along with my legs, she told me. She also informed me that they had a free period coming up, and that if I wanted, I could be done then?

That was music to my ears so I agreed and sat down to patiently wait my turn amongst the other waiting customers, casually flicking through the girly collection of lifestyle and beauty mags that were lying on the table. I kept my head down as other customers came and went - some of them no doubt wondering what the young teenage boy was waiting for? I was doing this at last! I loved watching the women walk past me and seeing their heads turn when they saw me. After a ten minute wait, it was my turn and I was led to a small side room and told to remove my clothing and don a towelling robe instead. My heart was beating fast as I removed my shirt and pulled my trousers down exposing my black silky panties. I was alone in the room at this point so quickly removed them and fastened the robe around me so that no-one saw my girly underwear.

Within seconds the door opened and another woman walked in. She was in her late thirties, a bit plump with black bobbed hair. She was also very chatty. Immediately she began talking to me asking how I was and how men were having this procedure done with increasing frequency. She asked me to lie back as she began stirring a large pot of a very sticky mixture.My legs weren't that hairy as I had been shaving them regularly for a few years now and she instantly picked up on this saying the hairs weren't very long. I told her that I preferred being hairless and that it just felt better to me. She smiled and I wondered if she knew any men who dressed as women or ever had any other TV's through the door? Was I her first? She asked that if I ever came back then I should leave the hairs to grow a bit longer so the wax coats the hairs properly to allow them to be pulled out.After a few minutes she was ready and told me to be brave as she was away to start and began applying the wax to my ankle and calf area.

She applied a piece of paper to my legs, smoothed it down, and quickly pulled it off in one swift motion. She looked up at my face expecting my face to be caught in a silent scream, but in all honesty, I didn't think it was that bad? I told her that was fine and she moved on to the next part. As she worked her way up my leg she began asking where I worked, about girlfriends, holidays, where I went drinking in town. All very innocuous type of chat that is typical of hairdressers and taxi drivers everywhere. I lay back on the table and was very aware that she was working her way nearer and nearer to my pantied crotch. It was a struggle to keep my mind on our conversation as she got closer to the tops of my legs. I moved around on the table to allow her access to my thigh and I'm sure she spotted what I was wearing. It was quite difficult to hide as the robe only came mid way up my thigh. Like a true professional though, she kept on working, smiling, and making small talk with me.

After around 30 minutes, she had done both my legs and asked that I remove the robe so she could do my chest area. I knew there was no going back and slowly untied the belt to allow that robe to fall around my waist. There was now no hiding that fact that I had ladies panties on. I wore them every day and had practically no male underwear anyway. I had slowly gotten rid of all those drab boring garments and replaced them with much more sexy and better looking underwear more befitting of a sexy young transvestite. I saw her eyes drop to my crotch area and her eyebrows lift. There was no doubt in her mind now as to why I wanted hairless legs. As I positioned myself on the table she began telling me about other treatments the place offered like manicures, pedicures, tanning, and piercings. This confirmed to me that she knew my secret and had no problems with it. I told her that I'd bear that in mind for the future and she moved onto waxing my chest and under arm area.

 Twenty minutes later she was all done and she wiped me down with a baby wipe and told me she'd meet me back at reception. I got dressed and made my way back where she stood there with the receptionist.

"Everything okay for you", the receptionist asked and I replied that it was was and pulled my wallet out fishing  my credit card out. I handed it to her so she could read my name and she put it through her machine to take a copy of it. I quietly stood there as both women were smiling at me preparing the receipt before handing it to me. I thanked them both and left the salon wondering what the topic of conversation would soon be. By the time I got home I was rock hard and couldn't wait to pull a pair of stockings on over my now super smooth legs, slip into a pair of my high heels, and slowly bring myself off to a shuddering climax thinking of my first ever salon visit.

Caught Again....

The Consequences of Being Caught

I was caught cross-dressing in my early teens a few times and those feelings associated with it have stayed with me ever since. Shame. Guilt. Fear. Humiliation. All those emotions that can cause harm to youngsters. The first times were by near neighbours. The first was a woman in her 50's who suddenly came out as I dared to walk up my garden path whilst all femmed up. I was too caught up in the moment to hear the door and notice her approaching. Her look said it all to me. It was a mixture of shock, disgust and pity. She knew me, she knew my family, she knew everyone around me.... and it terrified me to know this. What the fuck had I done?

I don't think she ever told my parents but I'm pretty sure she told some of her friends and other close neighbours. I could tell by some of their looks as they passed me. The thing that convinced me was when I was walking up for a bus one day and one of my other neighbours was hanging out of her top window as I approached. I saw her and as I got closer said "Hello" to her. She smiled down at me and said "Not wearing a skirt today then?"

I was dumbstruck. She had always been a friendly chatty woman and to hear her say this to me was like a punch in the stomach. I laughed it off and carried on my way with my mind in overdrive. She had never seen me so it must have been my neighbour who told her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck....

Over the next few months I was caught more and more. Always by women.  I hadn't left school yet but had time off before exams started and school finished. I spent it wisely by experimenting with my mum and sisters clothing. I'd try on all types of combinations for a look that I liked. My first favourite was a pair of my mum's black tights, bra and panties coupled with my sisters skirt and blouse. A pair of mother's strappy heels and I was all set to go.

I loved to prance around the house admiring myself in the mirror before eventually giving in and coating my belly in jets of my warm cum. After some months this wasn't enough and I had to increase the thrill factor. This was done by getting all dressed up, going upstairs and looking for people approaching. I was waiting for strangers to walk my past my front door and then I'd come out the door just as they passed so they got a good look at my long shaven legs in high heels. I stuck to women and girls only. I wanted them to see me as their sexy sister. I was good enough to pass as female and I wanted them to see a sexy woman - or my idea of a sexy woman as dictated by the porn mags of that day. High heels, short skirts, tight blouses, stockings.... I guessed no-one knew me so it didn't matter. How naive was I? The place I stayed in wasn't small but it wasn't huge either. Men didn't interest me so I never bothered with them and to tell the truth I was scared one might get violent towards me. I couldn't risk that happening at my front door. That was way too risky....


Then one day I spotted a girl approaching as I watched from upstairs and so I dashed downstairs to rendezvous with her just as she passed my house. I ran down the stairs in my high heels and quickly composed myself and the mirror by the door. I smoothed down my hair, gave my make up a quick check, blew myself a kiss and swiftly opened the door and stepped out to look around. Oh my fucking God. I couldn't believe it. In my hurry to show myself off to this girl I hadn't looked properly and I'd made a big mistake. I knew her. It was Lesley. I knew this girl from school and she knew me. She knew the boy me. She also now knew the girl me. She had stopped in her tracks expecting me to come out of the door as she heard it open. Instead, of me, my as yet un-named female alter ego stepped out. I was all in black that day - skirt, blouse, heels, tights - and had my hair made up in a very feminine style. I'd clip on earrings in and, as usual, was wearing lipstick, mascara and eye shadow. I was to those that never knew me a slightly slutty looking girl. However, this girl knew me.

"What the fuck....." she exclaimed and again her face said more than her voice ever could.

I was caught bang to rights and knew it. My world crumbled around me as I realised who it was. Oh shit. Why Lesley? Why hadn't I looked more closely? Lesley was quite possibly one of the most beautiful girls at my school. To have this beautiful girl look at me as I stood in front of her all dressed up in sexy clothing was mind numbing. After a few seconds of silence on my behalf I turned on my heel and ran back in the house slamming the door. Behind the door I collapsed to my knees leaning against it as my world turned upside down.

 I still know Lesley- she's on my facebook - and she is still stunning even in her mid 30's. She has lost none of her natural beauty and when we see one another out and about we still chat. None of the two of us have ever mentioned that day ever again but she absolutely 100% knows my dirty little secret. Every time we talk it is in the back of my mind and it turns me on immensely. It used to scare me just after it happened. I would do everything I could to avoid speaking to her such was my shame. Now... now it gives me a semi. Go figure.

My Sissy Transition....

 

Fiona the Sissy Whore

I'm such a naughty sissy whore.... and Mistress knows it.

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