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.

More Naughty Captions

For the first time....

I've always liked dressing in girl's clothing. The very first memory of cross-dressing I can vaguely  remember is pulling on a pair of my mum's tights early one morning as she slept next door. I was immediately smitten. I was perhaps around 6 or 7 and it was the first time I had worn nylon in my life. Even now, I struggle to understand why I pulled them on... they were lying there, on the floor, inviting me..... and I'm glad I accepted. I pulled them up around my chest and strutted around that room like I owned it. They felt wonderful on my slim hairless legs. So smooth, so soft, so beautiful. I knew it was wrong what I was doing, but damn did it feel good. From that moment on I was hooked.

Over the next few years I'd "borrow" my mum's tights every chance I could get. Whenever my parents went shopping or out visiting I'd be straight into her underwear drawer or the washing basket. Then one day I decided to go a bit further. Tights no longer held their appeal. It was the school summer holidays and my folks were away out. After slipping into my favourite black tights I took a deep breath and pulled out some knickers, a bra, and a slip and slowly slipped into them. I lay back on the bed and felt my body through the soft shiny material. I was short of breath and my hormones were kicking in. I had to go further. I pulled open her wardrobe door and reached inside for something else to transform me. I took the shortest skirt she had and climbed inside pulling up the zip and fastening the button behind me. Mmmm. My heart raced faster and faster. I was becoming a female! Dare I go further? Next came a blouse which I pulled over my head, tucked in and adjusted. I knew it didn't sit right so pulled out some spare pairs of tights and stuffed them into my bra filling it out. Now I had breasts. That immediately looked better to me. Much more feminine. Just the look I wanted to achieve. However, I required just one more thing to complete my outfit. High heeled shoes. I peered inside the wardrobe anxious to find a pair to match my outfit and soon settled on a pair of 3 inch strappy sandals. I slipped into the oversized shoes and fastened the straps on them to secure my feet in.

In combination all of these items transformed me. I must have been 11 years old and for the first time in my life I was dressed completely as a female. My hair was longer in that day and I had a slim androgynous look which was perfect for my new look. I walked around my parents bedroom admiring myself. Strutting up and down stealing glances at my new friend. Every time I looked in the mirror I saw someone else looking back at me. She was gorgeous and I instantly fell in love with her. I was now a sexy young girl and that girl was turning me on so much. I couldn't believe the transformation I had made. The slim shy schoolboy of only minutes ago had become a sexy alluring young girl. My head swam with the sight in the mirror and I twisted and turned eager to catch every possible view of my new feminine form.

After a few minutes, I was becoming more and more excited looking at myself and my cock was now rock hard in my knickers. It was sticking out quite a bit actually. Eventually I couldn't hold out any longer and threw myself down on the bed quickly hauling up my skirt around my waist. My hands continued the pace frantically pulling the front of the knickers and tights down and freeing my erect cock from its silky confines. I pulled my legs up around my waist and closed my eyes. Grasping myself firmly I rapidly squeezed and pumped at my hard cock furiously. My mind flashed images of that beautiful young girl I had become. She was gorgeous, her legs, her body, those tits, those heels.... It wasn't long before I felt the familiar feeling building within my loins and squeezing my eyes tight I surrendered myself to the most exhilarating orgasm I had ever given myself! I wasn't actually producing sperm then so never had to worry about any mess. It was all about the pure pleasure....

Afterwards, as I placed everything back again I felt the usual shame and upset at what I'd done. What was I doing? What had just happened to me? Surely I wasn't like that? I said loudly to myself that I'd never go that far again. I'd stick to tights. I would not do it again. I promised....