tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83202192628165024122024-03-17T19:58:53.795-07:00Linda's Tormented Sissies and Extreme Forced Feminization CaptionsWelcome to my Sissy caption site! I enjoy crafting sissy captions based on exquisitely and intensely feminine images.
My captions tell tales of cruel Masters and Mistresses forcefully transforming men into sissy captives and playthings. I try to express that special sense of sissy helplessness, sissy humiliation and sissy fear. Please become a Follower and remember -- Sissies MUST LEAVE COMMENTS and publicly express the Sissy feelings you have when you read my blog. Enjoy!!!Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.comBlogger229125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-55836665379256727922024-01-21T17:13:00.000-08:002024-01-21T17:13:38.939-08:00A Reluctant Sissy -- Part 6 - Sissies for Hire<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>About a month had passed before I received another letter from Mrs. Trainer.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>"Dear Mrs. ____,</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Sorry for the delay in writing but things here at the school are very busy indeed. This is a crucial time in our training process where we expect to see our sissies display the attitude and actions that are expected of them without any reminders, prodding or punishment. We are still enjoying our trips into London and our Thursday night officers' parties. And I am delighted to report that your son is by far the best behaved, hardest working, most delightful little sissy in the entire class. We are absolutely thrilled with how far he has come in just five short months here.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>There is a special privilege (well, I 'm not sure the sissies see it as a privilege) that we reserve for our most accomplished, most feminized, most obedient sissies. On occasion, if one (or more) of our handsome, older Air Force officers wants to "borrow" a sissy, that is something we can sometimes arrange. Well, I can assure you that ALL of the gentlemen are asking for time with your beautiful son.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ-CZ4SLClo6qWX3Whr0heHaivaWQpuRXGmaxSFCg5BhRqy0OsVsCTLC7J0_xj7qAdRSM_pdr5emXR-3fT_q9blda5UIonMms5HcBzQ9BmSyLJwhP0Q2anzT8NPS5IREnswhEZ-ISbjg-z5ZDGWF9KWFXXSsuc1EPsG0lY8bnJ91obQxSSjJxCa23y/s2803/00046-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2803" data-original-width="1166" height="675" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ-CZ4SLClo6qWX3Whr0heHaivaWQpuRXGmaxSFCg5BhRqy0OsVsCTLC7J0_xj7qAdRSM_pdr5emXR-3fT_q9blda5UIonMms5HcBzQ9BmSyLJwhP0Q2anzT8NPS5IREnswhEZ-ISbjg-z5ZDGWF9KWFXXSsuc1EPsG0lY8bnJ91obQxSSjJxCa23y/w280-h675/00046-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" width="280" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Sometimes an officer will request a sissy to be their date for an evening of dining and clubbing in London. Your Kimberly went on such a date two weeks ago wearing that adorable black minidress. Doesn't he look divine. Our officer was so proud having this lovely sissy hanging on his arm all evening, showing him off to all his friends." I stopped reading long enough to look at the first photo. I nearly fainted at the sight of my son wearing a very sexy minidress -- and looking amazing in it. He looked so delicate, so feminine. The short dress made his legs look so long and slender, the high heels he wore added to the effect. I took a breath and returned to the letter.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6tOuL4ErcJ2LE2G5-i6AymTmgK988gyuV1sp8ul3YHFtVxyRPB_7sY5zpvNktB3GCvNXdqhaFy37IyQn6KkDAbt7fuKbOE1KWdvaGIyLikdELGbdRgeRMe4WTGqOisl5jVHMgmUed6XgzM5dacgnqT7txdwuiIJbvAAX2CWEk8r0lkfd__kYRnC6sd1s/s720/tumblr_inline_po0ucyN9uK1tc9lan_500.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="566" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6tOuL4ErcJ2LE2G5-i6AymTmgK988gyuV1sp8ul3YHFtVxyRPB_7sY5zpvNktB3GCvNXdqhaFy37IyQn6KkDAbt7fuKbOE1KWdvaGIyLikdELGbdRgeRMe4WTGqOisl5jVHMgmUed6XgzM5dacgnqT7txdwuiIJbvAAX2CWEk8r0lkfd__kYRnC6sd1s/w376-h566/tumblr_inline_po0ucyN9uK1tc9lan_500.jpg" width="376" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>"Then last week, another officer borrowed Kimberly for an entire weekend, jetting him off to some swanky island resort. We assembled some fabulous outfits for your son for this little adventure. I simply love the very revealing black top combined with the wide leg trousers. Your son looks like he stepped out of a fashion magazine! And the fun part of wearing that top - it makes our sissies wish that their boobs were actually larger than they are (but the hormones only work so fast -- don't worry, you can expect a lot more progress in this department over the months ahead). We also sent your son off with a sexy swimsuit for his resort getaway."</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>I stopped again to look at these two photos.....</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidb3eaFO1SX6P0m3i00rnBXAYxB9PdG3WueqiHsLS_4jIuiKviSywP0TxWauHR1Rb3Oo3HPugtuyjGjnWgiqtofFPwqkHQ4-AIftCg5stp2J1ElbEUM-yCi6wmaNejn9tH25-BWvDpkxTszB9EI_AMuLDyT1eQILrxjEqTZEqEg-VkqdmaiynWeBwJ75Y/s720/tumblr_inline_po0uf1A4Tp1tc9lan_500.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="480" height="566" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidb3eaFO1SX6P0m3i00rnBXAYxB9PdG3WueqiHsLS_4jIuiKviSywP0TxWauHR1Rb3Oo3HPugtuyjGjnWgiqtofFPwqkHQ4-AIftCg5stp2J1ElbEUM-yCi6wmaNejn9tH25-BWvDpkxTszB9EI_AMuLDyT1eQILrxjEqTZEqEg-VkqdmaiynWeBwJ75Y/w377-h566/tumblr_inline_po0uf1A4Tp1tc9lan_500.jpg" width="377" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>"And please don't be concerned by the expression on Kimberly's face. I'm happy to report that he is not sneering or frowning for the camera. Rather, he is genuinely frightened of being sent away for time alone with these men. As awful as life is for our sissies in the school, they become familiar with their surroundings and the routine and they take comfort in that. But when they are sent off into the world on their own, with no chaperone, that can be very unsettling. Your lovely Kimberly was absolutely trembling with fear before being sent off on these two "assignments." </b></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>But I'm happy to tell you that in both instances our officer friends were absolutely delighted with Kimberly's company! </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>There is a group of three officers who have inquired as to whether they could take Kimberly away for a weekend at a country estate they are renting. I think that sounds like a marvelous idea. I'm sure they will find all sorts of ways to keep your darling son busy! </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>I expect that there will be some sad faces over at the base when it's time for your Kimberly to be sent home to you.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>That's all for now. We are in the final stages of preparing your son to go home to you!</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Sincerely, Mrs. Trainer"</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p></p>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-71161969934968862282024-01-10T17:38:00.000-08:002024-01-10T17:38:36.035-08:00A Reluctant Sissy -- Part 5 -- Elegant Nights<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDVo2R9N9M_0O4QQVWg91uT9mJacccObUZ42X6Y39XAuyXmFMNQlwamOr_YfqPSXqXECNLmWehN_BrBitgwe538BIhqr0P4Q860Khc0Sfh6PpMqmqe237QgtO0vXKDkXmjo4nFV9wMeYdYyhp-sXpfGy_xTwGZ2dkqJi-SApRlexX2O4ASHpgAkf4E/s2853/00033-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2853" data-original-width="1243" height="839" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDVo2R9N9M_0O4QQVWg91uT9mJacccObUZ42X6Y39XAuyXmFMNQlwamOr_YfqPSXqXECNLmWehN_BrBitgwe538BIhqr0P4Q860Khc0Sfh6PpMqmqe237QgtO0vXKDkXmjo4nFV9wMeYdYyhp-sXpfGy_xTwGZ2dkqJi-SApRlexX2O4ASHpgAkf4E/w365-h839/00033-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" width="365" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>When I opened my most recent update letter from Mrs. Trainer, these two photos fell out of the envelope. I must have stared at them for five whole minutes before I could tear myself away from them to read her letter to me.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>"Dear Mrs. ____, </b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>I am very pleased to report that our progress with your son is proceeding very, very well. An entirely new personality is being revealed; One that is demure, gentle and obedient. I am sure you will be delighted when you see the finished product in just a few short months from now.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Now that our sissy students have been with us for 16 weeks, the intensity of the training and our expectations of our "ladies" increases quite dramatically. Days are longer, infractions are dealt with more severely and our behavior and personality manipulation (some might call it brainwashing) is taken to a new level.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>We are very fortunate that our school is located just a few miles from a Royal Air Force base. Over time, we have developed a relationship with a select group of senior officers from the base that we can trust. Every Thursday night, we invite our officer friends over for a very swanky party with our darling sissies. The officers tell their wives that they are working late (seems to happen every Thursday!) and our sissies entertain these handsome gentlemen from early in the evening until well past midnight.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWs1rBAlRaPWPSq8MhXEu66KRCaSV5GOQwmQlJyDkzNOY1EVuvoAD0Ygt3Yakx0jreKBgMYiG2zCYP0NuPlYJJbRLg9S6YRa5Y9EFVrVxI4fCKirwvQ1oebIMYpFNmCvZzpEeAFvIoSuz3bHo5Mck614xPpO7jp0RCX0eZMn_pErco2iDsI-9iDFYs/s2614/00043-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2614" data-original-width="1270" height="809" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWs1rBAlRaPWPSq8MhXEu66KRCaSV5GOQwmQlJyDkzNOY1EVuvoAD0Ygt3Yakx0jreKBgMYiG2zCYP0NuPlYJJbRLg9S6YRa5Y9EFVrVxI4fCKirwvQ1oebIMYpFNmCvZzpEeAFvIoSuz3bHo5Mck614xPpO7jp0RCX0eZMn_pErco2iDsI-9iDFYs/w391-h809/00043-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" width="391" /></a></div>We dress our sissies up in their finest outfits to show the officers how much we appreciate their company. And it should be no surprise that your little Kimberly is one of the officers' favorites! The gentlemen arrive -- in full dress uniform, of course -- around 6:00pm. It's cocktails and flirting with the sissies. Then dinner at 8:00 followed by more cocktails, dancing and...well, whatever the officers want to do. We have plenty of space here at the school for the officers to take a sissy somewhere private for some one-on-one time. This goes on for a few more hours until our gentlemen guests are exhausted and need to head home to their families.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>You may be curious as to why we incorporate some much interaction with men into our training program. Let me explain. First, when our sissies are in the presence of alpha males, like our wonderful RAF officers, they are shocked into realizing just how little they have in common with such real men. Being surrounded by strong, masculine, muscular men, our sissies feel small and delicate and weak. They recognize nothing of themselves in our handsome guests.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Second, it is understood by all that the sissies are to cooperate with and please our guests at all times. Our officers are accustomed to having their instruction followed and their needs met. It is wonderful practice for our sissies to understand that their role is only to please and to serve. At this point in their training, they are beginning to feel a sense of fulfillment, and even pride, in their submissiveness and servitude to these strong, dominant men.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>I will write again with more photos as soon as I can.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Sincerely, Mrs. Trainer"</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>I put away Mrs. Trainer's letter and again marveled at the photos of my beautiful, elegant, ladylike son. I could just imagine how these older gentlemen would absolutely drool at the site of such a lovely young "girl." And while at first I was shocked by the thought of him being forced to endure...encounters...with men, I could see Mrs. Trainer's point that it was probably a very powerful indoctrination and re-education tool. I reminded myself of just how bad his behavior was before I sent him away and how I was in favor of whatever Mrs. Trainer felt she needed to do to fix his awful behavior and attitude. </b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><br /><br /> <p></p>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-38516408543261879572023-12-27T11:53:00.000-08:002023-12-27T11:53:06.498-08:00A Reluctant Sissy -- Part 4 - Going into London<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>I was now getting updates from Mrs. Trainer every couple of weeks regarding my son's feminization transformation. The latest letter read as follows:</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>"Dear Mrs. _____, </b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXD0S9-IEA8XhjDPEXeLQC4RodK1flNQzl8H2hPsgoMQTeTEvddPR0QaV1sWjbRuPZt71v7xD46mrDoy5zADIvyzxXfQFrnMGKTJd3dOGp61GvE7ks3pFggvvYk72UD8tDhUBqOlCPb75EIN6qe-ZMQKw5ic3GlxbfWIXCDFhzfeZOijxy6fii4kNt/s2684/00004-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2684" data-original-width="1167" height="794" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXD0S9-IEA8XhjDPEXeLQC4RodK1flNQzl8H2hPsgoMQTeTEvddPR0QaV1sWjbRuPZt71v7xD46mrDoy5zADIvyzxXfQFrnMGKTJd3dOGp61GvE7ks3pFggvvYk72UD8tDhUBqOlCPb75EIN6qe-ZMQKw5ic3GlxbfWIXCDFhzfeZOijxy6fii4kNt/w345-h794/00004-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" width="345" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Now that our most recent crop of sissy students has been with us for a couple of months, we have added a fun new activity to their schedules. Every two weeks we get our little sissies all dolled up to spend a fun day in London! It is so much fun dressing our sissy boys up in the cutest little outfits and to spend an entire day putting them on full display in the busy city.</b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>There is so much to do in London; we usually start our day at a chic salon where the sissies can get their hair and nails done. The ladies at the salon really enjoy working on our naughty boys and ensure that they all look their very prettiest for the rest of their big day out. We usually do some shopping for dresses and pretty things at a few boutiques or one of the wonderful London department stores. Then it's off to downtown (we call it "The City") where we go for lunch at some restaurant crowded with handsome young businessmen. There is a lot of ogling and leering going on as our sissies try their hardest to ignore all the attention they are getting. Sometimes a brave young banker will approach one of our tables and try to flirt with one of our boys. It's very upsetting for our sissies to realize that they have been so feminized that they have become the objects of desire for real men!"</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>I stopped reading for a moment to take a look at the photos that Mrs. Trainer had included. My heart nearly stopped when I saw the first photo -- my son in a pretty yellow cardigan, chicly belted around his skinny waist. And this was over a blue polka dot pleated skirt that fell just below his knees. This was finished with towering pair of open-toe pumps and the same oversized pearl jewelry I had seen in earlier photos. He looked simply amazing. So stylish. Simply gorgeous. But as always, that naughty boy refuses to smile for the camera! </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>I continued reading:</b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEium8zICXFPqRm16iczEyqGgCHYbozKDFv-H_KjXueYmiyZAYKt4UKG4Fcs-kYBFqYYn0MfAq2AEINhh9V-Wsh9tZDbMtA8ypVc37EQ9dT8qyBg8uy2mrmOh37o0_Jw_dVpfOId-DygxvgoQ2nvq4y9XqjLG_bd6TIi6Iso47yg9S0wk-8YJmgEY29z/s2377/00002-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2377" data-original-width="1127" height="840" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEium8zICXFPqRm16iczEyqGgCHYbozKDFv-H_KjXueYmiyZAYKt4UKG4Fcs-kYBFqYYn0MfAq2AEINhh9V-Wsh9tZDbMtA8ypVc37EQ9dT8qyBg8uy2mrmOh37o0_Jw_dVpfOId-DygxvgoQ2nvq4y9XqjLG_bd6TIi6Iso47yg9S0wk-8YJmgEY29z/w399-h840/00002-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" width="399" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>"Our day might include a ballet matinee or high tea at a fancy hotel. You know -- all the things real ladies love to do. And our sissies are expected to demonstrate their best behavior and participate enthusiastically in whatever activity we dream up for them.</b></span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Of course, your darling Kimberly is so very pretty that he attracts a lot of attention where ever we go. Doesn't he look so sweet in the little pink and blue sweater and skirt ensemble he's wearing!?! He wears this outfit so well that I promise that we will send it home with him when his training and transformation here are over."</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>I looked at the second photo that Mrs. Trainer had enclosed. It was shocking to see how feminine -- how absolutely lovely -- my rotten son looked. My mind went into overdrive in that moment, beginning to imagine the new life the two of us would be living when he returned home. </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Mrs. Trainer's letter concluded:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>"You may have total confidence that we will complete your son's transformation to our very high standards. You will be delighted with the lovely and feminine and compliant sissy that you will see in just a few short months.</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Sincerely, Mrs. Trainer." </b></span></div><div><p></p></div>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-23864062213012117562023-12-05T13:54:00.000-08:002023-12-05T13:54:27.375-08:00A Reluctant Sissy -- Part 3 -- Sissies go to Church<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiOXXBl3ixklPn5pTIxA9OeWcBatrYBPTulGElFTqj4H7a4FzoUM7cCUd_5w-CXY4PdqAWSLQrixAM7KjZxCK886cUGwp8hjFkNU4bIu4K-ir5_Ws-vbtqtzcPojzxM3vqtK3foM1Fjk4fktpry9YPy4o7GrSh1J3Tv88563p56IUduzW2YzisGMWp/s2880/00003-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="1920" height="544" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiOXXBl3ixklPn5pTIxA9OeWcBatrYBPTulGElFTqj4H7a4FzoUM7cCUd_5w-CXY4PdqAWSLQrixAM7KjZxCK886cUGwp8hjFkNU4bIu4K-ir5_Ws-vbtqtzcPojzxM3vqtK3foM1Fjk4fktpry9YPy4o7GrSh1J3Tv88563p56IUduzW2YzisGMWp/w362-h544/00003-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear.jpg" width="362" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">I</span><span style="font-size: medium;">t had only been a week since my last letter when I received another update from Mrs. Trainer on my sissy son's progress at Mrs. Trainer's "transformation" academy</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>"Dear Mrs. _____, </b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>All of our sissies, including your pretty son, continue to make wonderful progress. Of course, there are challenges to overcome, but nobody said it would be easy!</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>There is so much activity here at the academy every day and every week. I know you never had the opportunity to attend our full orientation program for sissy guardians and owners, so I hope my letters will help you get a full picture of all the fun we are having here (well, fun for us. Not so much fun for the sissies! Ha ha!)</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>One lovely tradition we have is that we take all of our sissies to church every Sunday. The vicar of our local church is quite the pervert and he enjoys getting to know each of our sissy students. Every week, our sissies get all dolled up in their Sunday finest and we parade them into church, where they all sit in first pew, their dresses and make-up and posture simply perfect."</b></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWyKqUvOhe3g4EZQVAYmDjQa2Dnr0H6VBVFPHKnKD9fEbyg230aWbcpb1q6-QG5ZZ2G64V9RJNLUJlRT7XubLI_nnlT7D00trUmFsjYL9wIogrkfRbmvkV4-37nydGruenJZkg1K2QFsOB57lYCd67WvUaAm0U6sStTcdHbFPAMC7o0s0ul-HBUB_n/s2380/00001-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2380" data-original-width="1119" height="837" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWyKqUvOhe3g4EZQVAYmDjQa2Dnr0H6VBVFPHKnKD9fEbyg230aWbcpb1q6-QG5ZZ2G64V9RJNLUJlRT7XubLI_nnlT7D00trUmFsjYL9wIogrkfRbmvkV4-37nydGruenJZkg1K2QFsOB57lYCd67WvUaAm0U6sStTcdHbFPAMC7o0s0ul-HBUB_n/w392-h837/00001-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" width="392" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>I marveled at the photos Mrs. Trainer sent of my son wearing these adorable, conservative -- but very stylish -- outfits. The idea of Mrs. Trainer's staff forcing my son into these clothes and then taking him out in public gave me an unexpected shock of excitement. He's even wearing gloves in one photo! And I simply love the oversized pearl jewelry they have him wearing. </b></span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>And there was that same sad/mad face. I knew that attending Mrs. Trainer's academy must be torture -- but I also knew that it was for the best. Besides, he brought it on himself!<br /></b></span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>I returned to Mrs. Trainer's letter.</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>"Part of what makes taking our little sissies to church so fun is that the congregation has no idea these are naughty boys all dolled up and in the process of being transformed. As far as the other churchgoers know, these "ladies" are attending a "finishing school" that I run. And the best part is, while our little sissies serve coffee and cake after the service, all the church ladies make such a fuss over them saying things like, "How I wish my daughter would act and dress like such a perfect lady," or "I wish my son in London could meet a nice young lady like you." This attention makes our little sissies absolutely squirm! For the staff at our school, it is one of the high points of our week.</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>I mentioned that our local vicar takes a very keen interest in our sissies. He is an obese old man who visits our school several times a week to meet with our sissies one-on-one for "spiritual development" counseling. This always seems to involve our sissies enduring a lot of severe over the knee spanking. And I'm not sure that there is a lot of praying going on, but our sissies seem to spend a lot of time on their knees when they're with him (wink, wink!)</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Rest assured, we are doing a very thorough job on your son. Don't let that insubordinate sneer on his face worry you; your son is stubborn but I promise he will be as meek and gentle as a baby kitten when he returns to you.</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Sincerely, Mrs. Trainer"<br /></b></span><p></p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-1904414442576271942023-11-26T12:58:00.000-08:002023-11-26T12:58:14.817-08:00A Reluctant Sissy -- Part 2 -- Dinner<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>About two weeks after I received my first report on my son's progress at Ms. Trainer's London facility for enforced feminization and obedience training, I received another update -- with more photos. Let me share this latest update with you:</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6nGTUgWRJlobIH19fMm7r7dEX3XgRi_KcN7KjGY8TZQWABmjmFyuCKgQR3-mKu5VCW66LslOKQKGN2B_VXir_RJX_Ouwjh-r4NyjkMx2iSFFV81TVBHGMbxCuam0XagCv9vals-EVSzML5Cn1cXgEH28Bcn3Ct0Lyx-mi_GBPEoHij38--qKWmN8/s2730/00030-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="1213" height="789" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6nGTUgWRJlobIH19fMm7r7dEX3XgRi_KcN7KjGY8TZQWABmjmFyuCKgQR3-mKu5VCW66LslOKQKGN2B_VXir_RJX_Ouwjh-r4NyjkMx2iSFFV81TVBHGMbxCuam0XagCv9vals-EVSzML5Cn1cXgEH28Bcn3Ct0Lyx-mi_GBPEoHij38--qKWmN8/w350-h789/00030-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" width="350" /></b></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><span>"Dear Mrs. ____, </span><span>We wanted to let you know that we are continuing to make good progress with your son's transformation. As you know, he is rather strong-willed and stubborn - but our staff loves a challenge! And we have the tools and the experience to break down even the most reluctant sissy. </span><span>The enclosed photos show your son dressed for dinner. Dinner is a rather formal affair here at the facility and we insist that our sissies dress up nightly in an appropriately fancy and feminine manner. We think your son looks absolutely divine in his dinner dresses. As you can see, his still refuses to smile for the camera. He is very unhappy with what we are forcing him to do and he is probably terrified of what the future holds for him. Regardless, I think he looks simply divine in the nude colored dress and absolutely charming in the green dress</span><span>" </span><span>I took a moment to study these latest photos. I could hardly believe that this lovely creature in the long sleeveless dresses was really my son! He looked so ladylike, so elegant. But I certainly did recognize his scowl -- just about the only expression I ever saw him make. Well, pout as much as you like, sissy boy. I know you will be no match for Ms. Trainer's staff and their techniques! </span></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><span><br /></span></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The letter continued:</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3atvFSuOII4WPPYZi4jzG6pakCIytLRx3AVlcca5mHIxPx9OywiFXO1LXXbTob6UyVi9-zkER1ztKVYDXABb83FAGuo5NYNPEdK3wZIO2uPRolduQnFiM-Fs6Lcenn2MIwHvlQIxvh1Trv-OmzuySiZV7tJ2xMDBaonix9fDd5HjLEpQDgGI6Tjrp/s2596/00040-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2596" data-original-width="1077" height="1009" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3atvFSuOII4WPPYZi4jzG6pakCIytLRx3AVlcca5mHIxPx9OywiFXO1LXXbTob6UyVi9-zkER1ztKVYDXABb83FAGuo5NYNPEdK3wZIO2uPRolduQnFiM-Fs6Lcenn2MIwHvlQIxvh1Trv-OmzuySiZV7tJ2xMDBaonix9fDd5HjLEpQDgGI6Tjrp/w387-h1009/00040-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" width="387" /></span></a></div><span><b><span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"I understand that you never received much background on our process here at the facility as I know you deposited your son with us with some urgency. I thought you would enjoy a quick overview of our process. Every day begins at 5:00AM sharp and our sissies make themselves pretty for the day. Then for the next 12 hours, it is non-stop chores and training. We are proud of what wonderful domestic workers our sissy graduates are after hundreds of hours of cleaning and cooking and serving -- all under our most strict supervision, of course. There is intense training on etiquette, deportment, speaking, beauty and other skills expected of sissies (did anyone say massage?) Training here includes classes led by my wonderful staff, supplemented with subliminal messaging and hypnosis. We have also begun your son on medically supervised hormone treatment (you will recall signing a release for that.) </span></span></span></span></b></span><b><span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I did not share it with you in my prior letter, but we did have to use some rather extreme measures on your son during his first weeks with us. But we know what we are doing in this area and we were able to get him to understand that he is to be obedient and submissive and cooperative -- or risk a repeat of the punishments he received when he first arrived. </span></span></b><b><span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Anyway, those days are behind us now and your lovely sissy son is making wonderful progress. </span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>I will write again soon. </span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>Sincerely, </span><span>Mrs. Trainer."</span></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /> <p></p>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-71996507801698555952023-11-14T16:39:00.000-08:002023-11-14T16:39:59.867-08:00A Reluctant Sissy -- Part 1 -- Arrival<p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>It was just about two years ago that I finally decided that I had had enough! I am a single mother and my son was completely out of control. I didn't really care that he was a crossdressing sissy. I didn't like him getting into my lingerie and make-up and dresses and shoes every time my back was turned. But I could have lived with that. There were other problems -- real problems. He was close to failing out of school, he was getting into all sorts of drugs, and I was spending a fortune getting him out of trouble with the police for his non-stop shoplifting.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>There were endless meetings with his teachers and counselors at school. But they had no answers. I tried family therapists, but they were useless. I tried grounding him and every other form of punishment I could think of. Nothing worked.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>And then he stole several pieces of my jewelry and tried to pawn them. That was the last straw!</b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiamPQnpiJYa6l7IVjEQ3W2VooZnhoK8W-sYfDqqztV9NQ2t63Wsr-lzzx-S-gRmob6XnHOcjfzQH81QLzR-U6W32zpG_kZ9jGgUPc3fiVhhJVblqMAJLKpcguCElqdBnxtgbSPD0lJrM_B9cl6YHU8nmbXuPZdfLlUIZ0wj9wb6xJJJrSaztoPsGQG/s2670/00029-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2670" data-original-width="1221" height="778" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiamPQnpiJYa6l7IVjEQ3W2VooZnhoK8W-sYfDqqztV9NQ2t63Wsr-lzzx-S-gRmob6XnHOcjfzQH81QLzR-U6W32zpG_kZ9jGgUPc3fiVhhJVblqMAJLKpcguCElqdBnxtgbSPD0lJrM_B9cl6YHU8nmbXuPZdfLlUIZ0wj9wb6xJJJrSaztoPsGQG/w356-h778/00029-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" width="356" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>I remember reading somewhere that there was a Ms. Trainer who ran a service where she could improve the behavior of boys through feminization. It wasn't easy to track her down, but I did. I discussed my situation with her and she was very reassuring. She explained that since my son was already a crossdressing sissy, her techniques should work very effectively on him. She suggested that I send him to her new facility in London, where the staff and the process were extremely strict and effective. A new semesters was just about to start and there was one opening (they handle up to six sissies at a time). I considered this to be a real opportunity so I wasted no time at all in doing what she suggested.</b></span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Imagine my son's surprise when we arrived at Ms. Trainer's estate outside of London. My son thought I had taken him to London so he could go pubbing and what not. You should have seen the look on his face when we pulled up the driveway and two enormous orderlies roughly grabbed him and dragged him out of the car and into the house!<br /></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>After an initial period a six weeks, during which I had heard nothing about my son's progress, I received my first report from school -- complete with lots of photos! Let me share their letter with you:</b></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2667" data-original-width="1053" height="969" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl465OjJUyux7pVLZpROtuuzQfyd_egiW655P2gjxE9935GV5M1uHYt9UkYyve2pPKvcsWfGAvJkClgDlw29HEKmjwSWL3Voo_INZp1KBz9GbmH1kMczkSy_SAGKJWr9qKWPZy6PLSEOlIPKr7_zfE1TAobmZojD7_Y933QJnZptGStyi1dnoSVYy5/w382-h969/00006-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" width="382" /></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><b>"Dear Mrs. ___, </b></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>We are happy to report that your son has made good progress during his first six weeks with us. We have decided to call him "Kimberly" -- we hope that name is satisfactory to you. He is settling into our routine of continuous training, behavior modification, and positive and negative reinforcement. There is evidence that we are starting to strip away his awful self-destructive behavior and replace it with a gentler, more compliant, feminized version of himself. Enclosed please find several photos of how your son is dressed everyday here at the facility. He really makes an adorable sissy!"</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>I stopped reading to marvel at the enclosed photos. I was stunned by just how lovely my son looked in his pretty new dresses. He had become so skinny in just a few weeks. And his hair was dyed such a pretty shade of blonde. His make-up, his jewelry, his sky-high heels -- everything was just so perfect and dainty and feminine. I could barely believe my eyes.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>The letter continued:</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>"Of course, even though we know he is a sissy at heart, he is resisting the feminization process. This is normal and not a cause for concern at this early stage. As you can see, he refuses to smile for our photos. As we remind him daily, we don't care if he is happy or not; he is only succeeding in making his transformation more difficult and more miserable for himself.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>We will keep you posted as our time with your son proceeds.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Sincerely, Mrs. Trainer"</b></span></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl465OjJUyux7pVLZpROtuuzQfyd_egiW655P2gjxE9935GV5M1uHYt9UkYyve2pPKvcsWfGAvJkClgDlw29HEKmjwSWL3Voo_INZp1KBz9GbmH1kMczkSy_SAGKJWr9qKWPZy6PLSEOlIPKr7_zfE1TAobmZojD7_Y933QJnZptGStyi1dnoSVYy5/s2667/00006-alessandra-rich--collection-spring-2019-ready-to-wear%20(2).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br /><p></p></div>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-31811382696156818622023-07-06T11:33:00.000-07:002023-07-06T11:33:41.887-07:00Bad News for My Sissy Husband<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Sweetie, do you have a minute to talk?" I called up the stairs. My darling sissy husband, Lily, came down right away.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Yes, Martha. Is there something that you need?" he asked.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"My, don't you look extra pretty today! That pink top is super cute on you and really shows off how you are...developing. And I love that necklace on you!" I cooed.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Thank you, Martha," he replied softly. I could tell he was both thrilled and a bit embarrassed with my compliments.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Sweetie, we need to talk. Now I know you have really been looking forward to our vacation to the Bahamas tomorrow," I started.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Oh yes, Martha. I'm very excited about our trip!" he replied breathlessly.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Yes, well," I started. "There's been a change of plans. You're not going," I stated matter-of-factly.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Completely blindsided by my announcement he responded, "What? No! We've been planning this trip for months!" His eyes were starting to tear. This announcement was getting him rather upset.</b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIsGYEzKxGY_oM2W8F-gBafSMe81xZ8xYnwU0nL2HnInE3sT18oG-ZEK42h3V06M-XtYyLZ8ZWvT6i7xDVxH8m13FIcuIeg-FgbbbdcJSdHdvY90rAUuBEzbPDPB4Ll2-hB3yLRwLCNUWiMqs0mz1TGuks2HBCxMLMOBL128fp2Zqpo3uAtUQAMFYr/s612/istockphoto-157380395-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="587" data-original-width="612" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIsGYEzKxGY_oM2W8F-gBafSMe81xZ8xYnwU0nL2HnInE3sT18oG-ZEK42h3V06M-XtYyLZ8ZWvT6i7xDVxH8m13FIcuIeg-FgbbbdcJSdHdvY90rAUuBEzbPDPB4Ll2-hB3yLRwLCNUWiMqs0mz1TGuks2HBCxMLMOBL128fp2Zqpo3uAtUQAMFYr/w521-h500/istockphoto-157380395-612x612.jpg" width="521" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Now Lily, really! Think about it. I mean, just look at you. Look how much you've changed! Your hair, your breasts, your hips. You have become so feminine! How can I be expected to go on a romantic Caribbean vacation with you? You can barely even pass as a man anymore! Needless to say, you can't take your shirt off on the beach now that your boobs have grown so much," I explained.</b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"But I did all of this for YOU! YOU wanted me to become more feminine, more ladylike. I made all of these changes because YOU wanted it!" He was starting to cry as he spoke. Goodness, the hormones make him so emotional!</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>I put my hand on his shoulder, "Oh, Lily, of course I know that. This is how I want you. Soft and feminine and gentle. I love having you as my sweet little sissy housewife. You look and smell so pretty and you take such wonderful care of me. You are exactly the way I want you. At home, that is. But on a romantic vacation? Well, that obviously is not going to work."</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"So you cancelled all of our vacation plans?" he asked stupidly.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Oh, good heavens no, silly girl. The trip is all paid for. I'm going with Ben."</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Ben? Who's Ben?" Lily asked.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Ben Martins, silly. My editor," I said. Then the wailing really began. </b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnWYQ2Xv_30DPKegK9vLu3bI3qJgjWIfHkdaVb6Hwi2wcsaqVyQBJq3hG01fLvJElohxsdXZ8y_XyQPL6TE61pQAjHmZTmCW1JGxRLNohKbJNdPCDfQLCDkDgeJHGB_DexVgB6wzNEvJE6-PNexTjMrRH1SQEKp8jkdKGpv-mOOP34GtYeQcfFAFwc/s612/istockphoto-173025335-612x612.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="612" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnWYQ2Xv_30DPKegK9vLu3bI3qJgjWIfHkdaVb6Hwi2wcsaqVyQBJq3hG01fLvJElohxsdXZ8y_XyQPL6TE61pQAjHmZTmCW1JGxRLNohKbJNdPCDfQLCDkDgeJHGB_DexVgB6wzNEvJE6-PNexTjMrRH1SQEKp8jkdKGpv-mOOP34GtYeQcfFAFwc/w640-h426/istockphoto-173025335-612x612.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"You're going on vacation with Ben?!? Why? How? What's going on?" Lily was starting to get a bit hysterical by this point.</b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Well, Lily, Ben and I have been spending a lot of time together finalizing my latest book. And he is going through a difficult time since he is getting divorced. Anyway, over the past couple of months, he and I have gotten rather...close. He really is a very nice man. And so tall and handsome!" The crying got much worse when I said that.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>By now I was growing tired of Lily's sobbing. "Now calm yourself. You know this is for the best. Look, I am a woman and I have needs -- and believe me, he really knows how to fill my needs! Ben and I will be able to have a wonderful, romantic vacation together in a way you and I simply can't anymore. Besides, you have fallen way behind on your chores and this will give you a whole week to get caught up."</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Lily had no words in response to that.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"And since I'll be spending more time with Ben at his apartment when we get back from the Bahamas, I thought it would be nice if you would go over there while we're away and get it all tidied it up. It really is a mess and you wouldn't want me having sex in an apartment that wasn't properly cleaned, now would you?"</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"Well, would you?" I repeated a bit more sternly, in case Lily thought it was a rhetorical question.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"No, I guess not," he answered softly.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>"No, of course not," I agreed. "Now pull yourself together. I know, let's go to the mall and I'll buy you something pretty to cheer you up. And while we're there, you can help me pick out a new bikini and maybe a sexy nightie to take on my trip. OK? Now dry those eyes and grab your purse."</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><br /></p><br /><br /><p><br /></p>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-43957691545500145932023-06-23T19:30:00.002-07:002023-06-23T19:30:39.078-07:00You Sissies Will Be Punished!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5HnNnlf0wT_H9XrASZ6AG3IblyvvzCL3bj77dtfPK9HJFExMQs5Pt6DDk8yxierEJZMeE7LyOYqgXwsdK1242RrCeXOwaounHa3AJcona8vioqvq8BpeyAbQzKNx8gXv7bYeE8Hzbm2X4Om2-8oLr_cczMKgWV833x--OmKkHExXxtIm6UZWBfkCM/s1416/punished2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="965" data-original-width="1416" height="540" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5HnNnlf0wT_H9XrASZ6AG3IblyvvzCL3bj77dtfPK9HJFExMQs5Pt6DDk8yxierEJZMeE7LyOYqgXwsdK1242RrCeXOwaounHa3AJcona8vioqvq8BpeyAbQzKNx8gXv7bYeE8Hzbm2X4Om2-8oLr_cczMKgWV833x--OmKkHExXxtIm6UZWBfkCM/w670-h540/punished2.png" width="670" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-67862782065717664232023-05-25T06:23:00.000-07:002023-05-25T06:23:40.592-07:00Sissy Roommate - Part 10 - The Conclusion<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglr0ogdYYGaIBadHLCsZbY11lQFzYRyIYTLXecD9OjzO2IQ5t6dbkSuK4F0tC4iJQ9EIcmFancEZorvNcCOB-kmp5p6TFxp9U5FkPc8c0cCv4dXmAW5dOxngX11eZSHblAJ1ILpnUV_C0DeeenZ0mSFiSXU4CU4GcrUfccrzhfKWstV7Yg7YIigFDk/s600/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="561" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglr0ogdYYGaIBadHLCsZbY11lQFzYRyIYTLXecD9OjzO2IQ5t6dbkSuK4F0tC4iJQ9EIcmFancEZorvNcCOB-kmp5p6TFxp9U5FkPc8c0cCv4dXmAW5dOxngX11eZSHblAJ1ILpnUV_C0DeeenZ0mSFiSXU4CU4GcrUfccrzhfKWstV7Yg7YIigFDk/w374-h561/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400.jpg" width="374" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> I know it's been a long story, but now you are up to date. It's the start of Tank's Junior year. I dropped out because I knew I couldn't care for Tank and take classes at the same time. But Tank and I will be living together this year in a beautiful condo that a rich alumnus has provided for Tank. I've been working hard to make sure it is clean and all ready for Tank when he arrives, which should be any minute now.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I bought some new clothes over the summer, including the outfit you see me wearing here. I sure hope Tank likes it when he sees me. And I curled my hair which got longer over the summer. I'm making an extra effort to look nice since I haven't even seen Tank all summer long!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">And best of all, the hormones really kicked in over the summer and my breasts grew a lot! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Excuse me, my phone is ringing. Oh great, it's Tank!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Hi Tank! Are you almost here? The condo is all clean and I...."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Stop talking!" Tank barked through the phone. "Jesus Christ! Just shut up and listen!"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"OK Sorry," I replied softly.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE6ZbpAwAkDuTZYhlYJoaINRSig2B_Ps8cB6A0XRUqU4arJ6ZBhdLv2CJMKbnQG5HQG80NvMKldcq3aWAMwXzMSK1zqEAEVbKXUMFdHq3eJBYatbnWorGJFuPdwqix8g8nT4wR_N6gi0fgFhPBNmMCu_yCQSFOHe5_thJDsaRG1K6fGxPMaMVW9W-X/s600/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400%20(2).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="591" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE6ZbpAwAkDuTZYhlYJoaINRSig2B_Ps8cB6A0XRUqU4arJ6ZBhdLv2CJMKbnQG5HQG80NvMKldcq3aWAMwXzMSK1zqEAEVbKXUMFdHq3eJBYatbnWorGJFuPdwqix8g8nT4wR_N6gi0fgFhPBNmMCu_yCQSFOHe5_thJDsaRG1K6fGxPMaMVW9W-X/w394-h591/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400%20(2).jpg" width="394" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Look, a lot of stuff happened over the summer. I'm engaged," Tank explained flatly.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"What? I don't understand. Are you joking? What are you saying?" I babbled.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"If you would shut the fuck up, I would tell you, you stupid sissy bitch. You remember Amber Destry, the swimmer from the Hall of Fame event last Spring?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Yes," I answered softly. My tummy started doing backflips. Remember Amber? How could I forget. She was like a living Barbie doll.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Well we got engaged this summer. And her dad, who's loaded, has bought us a house off campus to live in together."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"But what about our condo? What does..."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"For the last time, shut the fuck up! The good news for you is that the alum that owns the condo has agreed to let Jefferson and Jackson live there. And they seemed pretty interested in you when they met you last year, so I decided that you can just start being their sissy from now on."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSXMGuz27FFueXwdzoUQTfHsf67MXQ2LI5YzfdyBkTHls6twMlkXyxVNRo8zdlk7p-VI8Jv0IydwGX9YrLD-1K2G-1C0DU-jc8GOm7mgFkvp34i_MFlMlcvVKanhOu-jFg9WTk4cvIFfiyJPNWjopE_WUy0agOETkRw897U2zp4GoXDk5-m9wrisx/s600/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400%20(1).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwSXMGuz27FFueXwdzoUQTfHsf67MXQ2LI5YzfdyBkTHls6twMlkXyxVNRo8zdlk7p-VI8Jv0IydwGX9YrLD-1K2G-1C0DU-jc8GOm7mgFkvp34i_MFlMlcvVKanhOu-jFg9WTk4cvIFfiyJPNWjopE_WUy0agOETkRw897U2zp4GoXDk5-m9wrisx/w426-h640/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400%20(1).jpg" width="426" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I couldn't even make sense of what I was hearing. Tank was engaged to a real girl. I wasn't going to be living with him. And Tank had just decided that I would now be...given?...to Jefferson and Jackson. I started to feel faint.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Got to go," Tank said and he hung up.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I put down my phone and grabbed hold of the kitchen counter to steady myself. What was happening? What was I going to do? I didn't have a penny to my name and I had no where to go. My head was spinning.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">But not for long. Because just then I heard the front door being unlocked and in walked Jefferson and Jackson.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Hello sissy! We're home!" shouted one of them in a loud sing-song voice. The other one broke out laughing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Damn! Look how he's dressed! Did you get all dolled up because you knew we were coming? You are one sexy sissy!" the first one said. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The other one grabbed me by the throat with one hand and roughly grabbed one of my soft new breasts with the other. "It's true, Jack! The sissy really does have titties like Tank said!" He kept squeezing my breast and my neck really hard -- and then he licked my face, from my chin up to my forehead.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Then Jack laughed and said, "You know how I love titties!" Then he said, "Keep holding him like that, Jeff. I'm gonna get </span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">this party started!" as he unzipped his pants.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">THE END</span></p><p><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><p></p>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-25190664742552547472023-05-11T11:35:00.000-07:002023-05-11T11:35:29.144-07:00Sissy Roommate -- Part 9 -- Sissy on Display<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">It was the last week of Spring semester. Again, I was doing very poorly in my classes because I was spending so much time and energy in performing my sissy duties for Tank. I was pretty sure that I hadn't done well on my finals. Regardless, Tank and I would be leaving our dorm room tomorrow. Tank would be heading home; I would stay in the area and get a job for the summer.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">It was Thursday afternoon and Tank had finished his last final exam that morning. He seemed pretty happy that finals were done and so he spent most of the afternoon fucking me. He was just starting in on me for the third time when his cell phone rang. It was Jefferson, one of his buddies from the football team. Tank put it on speaker, "Yeah, what's up?" Tank asked.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Did you forget about this afternoon?" asked the voice on the phone. "We were all supposed to be at the President's house for the awards ceremony at 4:00. I bet you forgot, didn't you? Everyone is asking where you are. You gotta get your ass over here."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Shit," muttered Tank. "I'll be there in ten minutes."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"And you're supposed to bring a date," reminded Davis. "Everyone is supposed to bring a date."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Fuck fuck fuck. Alright. Later." Tank hung up then barked at me. "Hurry up and get dressed into something nice. You're coming with me to this awards thing."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"What?" I asked.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Just shut up and put on the nicest dress you got. We have to hurry up."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I did as I was instructed and went to my closet. I pulled out a cute polka dot dress that I had bought for our Florida vacation. When Tank emerged from the bedroom, he was wearing a suit and tie. I was breathless -- I had never seen him wearing a suit. He looked so, so, so handsome. My tummy did a somersault just from looking at him. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Are we really going to the University President's house? For an event? With other people?" I was in shock.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"That's about right. I'll explain more on the walk over there."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jbp7JQ_jgw4/WskdLU9809I/AAAAAAAAEcc/CxfWHH4n9q8OlhNu9PvnkSTiasvY3YKAgCLcBGAs/s1600/black-asos-dress-light-orange-peach-crossbody-asos-bag_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="586" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jbp7JQ_jgw4/WskdLU9809I/AAAAAAAAEcc/CxfWHH4n9q8OlhNu9PvnkSTiasvY3YKAgCLcBGAs/w390-h586/black-asos-dress-light-orange-peach-crossbody-asos-bag_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="390" /></a></div>I quickly put on dress from vacation. The dress was sleeveless so I added a little white sweater. I freshened my lipstick and ran a brush through my hair. I grabbed a purse before Tank pushed me out the door. As we raced across campus Tank explained that at the end of the year, the new inductees to the school's Athletic Hall of Fame were invited to an event at the President's house. A bunch of deans and other important people would be there. And the press. Tank explained that he was being inducted along with his buddies Jefferson and Jackson, both offensive linemen, both co-captains of the football team, and identical twin brothers! He said there would be star athletes from other teams but he didn't know who. He warned me that I better not to screw up and that everybody had to be totally convinced that I was really a girl -- or he would kill me (I don't think he meant that literally -- but he made his point.)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xRDOvWlflgU/WskdLRBtlUI/AAAAAAAAEcg/_lnFX3yShlI91LRQR4Or0MkG8Kt_z-jJACLcBGAs/s1600/black-asos-dress-light-orange-peach-crossbody-asos-bag_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="580" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xRDOvWlflgU/WskdLRBtlUI/AAAAAAAAEcg/_lnFX3yShlI91LRQR4Or0MkG8Kt_z-jJACLcBGAs/w386-h580/black-asos-dress-light-orange-peach-crossbody-asos-bag_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="386" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">He told me to tell people that I was a friend of his from his hometown and that we had gone to high school together. He said that I should say my name is Mary Ellen Molloy. I agreed to do as he said. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I struggled to keep up with him as we made our way across campus as my platform sandals were not made for walking fast. And as we quickly walked my head was spinning -- first from the thrill and terror of being out on display like this. Of course I had been out with Tank in Florida but that was different. We didn't know people in Florida. But this was campus! The stakes were completely different. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">But my head was also spinning with the question of what Tank was thinking -- and feeling. Tank was taking me out, in public, right here on campus. People would see us together. People might think we were an item. Should I interpret this as a new step in our relationship? Was Tank ready for me to be something more than his little sissy sex toy?</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7p1e-gmsm8E/WskdPHTC34I/AAAAAAAAEcs/kV0Y7lwLxwg1Y5FmDKvC8QGtro1ZAcrtACLcBGAs/s1600/black-asos-dress-light-orange-peach-crossbody-asos-bag_400%2B%25283%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="588" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7p1e-gmsm8E/WskdPHTC34I/AAAAAAAAEcs/kV0Y7lwLxwg1Y5FmDKvC8QGtro1ZAcrtACLcBGAs/w391-h588/black-asos-dress-light-orange-peach-crossbody-asos-bag_400%2B%25283%2529.jpg" width="391" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I didn't have time to wrestle any further with these questions because we had arrived. We walked into the President's mansion and there were like 70 people there. I think I counted about 15 athletes receiving the Hall of Fame award, plus each of them had a date. There were the senior university officials, including the president and his wife. Then there were about 20 reporters and photographers there. I had never been to an event like this -- either as a boy or as a girl. Everything was so fancy. Waiters brought around trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. I could hear a pianist playing in another room. It was like being in a movie. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Immediately, Tank and I went over to his buddies, Jefferson and Jackson. "Glad you could make it," Jackson joked. Then the two of them noticed me. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Oh shit!" said Jefferson. Then in a low voice, "Is that your fucking sissy?" </span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Oh my God!" I screamed to myself. I didn't know that Tank had told anyone about me. I started shaking.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ujhFedXEaM0/WskdPBV4vrI/AAAAAAAAEco/cagZRpQapEgWndHzcJ05m86vy5bmLGQaQCLcBGAs/s1600/black-asos-dress-light-orange-peach-crossbody-asos-bag_400.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ujhFedXEaM0/WskdPBV4vrI/AAAAAAAAEco/cagZRpQapEgWndHzcJ05m86vy5bmLGQaQCLcBGAs/w426-h640/black-asos-dress-light-orange-peach-crossbody-asos-bag_400.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">"Keep your pants on. And keep your voices down," Tank growled at them. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Tank was then called away by a photographer leaving me with his two buddies. "You are so fine," Jackson said as he looked me up and down. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I gulped and managed to squeak out, "Would you excuse me please," and I walked over to the buffet table downing another glass of champagne on the way to calm my nerves. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I barely spent any time with Tank for the next hour and a half; the athletes were mostly talking among themselves, posing for photographs or being cornered by the university bigwigs. The other male athletes' dates were really nice and we mostly talked among ourselves while our boys were busy. The President's wife was also very nice and I talked with her for a bit. I felt like I was pulling it off pretty well and the champagne was helping to give me a little extra courage.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The afternoon was nice but a couple of things made me...uneasy. First off, Jefferson and Jackson were spending a lot of time looking at me from across the room and whispering to each other when they weren't being hounded by reporters. That made me really uncomfortable. The other things was that Tank was spending a lot of time talking to a girl athlete, Amber Destry, a champion swimmer. Everyone knew who she was because she had been on the Olympic team! Not only was she an incredible athlete, but she was super gorgeous -- over six feel tall and looked like a real life Barbie -- if Barbie as a champion swimmer. I will admit to feeling pretty jealous when I saw this.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">By 6:00, the event started winding down. Tank told me to go back to our room on my own because he was going to go have dinner with Jefferson and Jackson. I wasn't too happy about that but of course I didn't say anything. I said my good-byes to some of the other girls that were still there and started the walk back to my dorm, alone, a little tipsy from all the champagne, with my head full of questions.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Tank didn't come back to the dorm at all that night. I had to vacate the dorm and turn in my keys by 10:00 the next morning, so I finished packing up my things and left for the summer, never having the chance to say good bye to Tank.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<br />Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-91836825380226085892023-04-23T13:09:00.001-07:002023-04-23T13:09:29.146-07:00Sissy Roommate Part 8 -- Spring Break Sissy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The rest of the fall and the winter went by quickly.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Of course, Tank set several new school football records -- and the team did make it to a Bowl Game for the first time in decades. Even though football season ended, Tank continued to train hard all year round.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I continued to put all my effort into serving Tank and making him happy. My own school work suffered badly -- I did terribly on two of my fall semester finals. But I realize I can't do everything and I have decided that caring for Tank is my top -- and sometimes only -- priority.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">You may remember that last fall, Tank had me start taking birth control pills -- female hormones. I didn't want to at first but Tank insisted. Well they have had a powerful effect on me! Almost immediately, I could feel swelling and intense sensitivity in my nipples and breasts. My butt and thighs have gotten a lot fuller while the rest of me has gotten even skinnier. My complexion became clearer and my skin softer. And my hair started growing much faster and thicker. There is no doubt that the birth control pills are starting to make me much more like a real girl!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EjkXq7tvpWg/WskdcrIRNNI/AAAAAAAAEc4/0QO5rpsygz8UUsZPora6Cv0xXnozWxSQwCLcBGAs/s1600/black-h-m-bag-black-forever-21-glasses-black-modcloth-swimwear_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EjkXq7tvpWg/WskdcrIRNNI/AAAAAAAAEc4/0QO5rpsygz8UUsZPora6Cv0xXnozWxSQwCLcBGAs/s16000/black-h-m-bag-black-forever-21-glasses-black-modcloth-swimwear_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">As spring break approached, Tank told me that he was going to Florida. Some wealthy alumnus was letting Tank use his beachfront condo for the week. And do you want to know the best part? Tank asked me to go with him!!! I leapt into his arms and kissed him so hard when he asked me! I was over the moon! </span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Of course, I didn't own anything I could wear on a vacation in Florida so I had to ask Tank for some extra money to buy some new things, including the super cute bikini I'm wearing in the photo. What do you think? When I go to the beach or to the pool, I wear a pair of extremely tight panties so that I'm totally flat in the front. And I added some special padding to the bra top that helps push my teeny breasts up so that I look like I have boobs like a real girl.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8xiPe_RN9Bo/Wskdc2CLNII/AAAAAAAAEdA/ILUtf1nBHhIatLw0XB61ay7NpIzKFeUSgCLcBGAs/s1600/black-h-m-bag-black-forever-21-glasses-black-modcloth-swimwear_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8xiPe_RN9Bo/Wskdc2CLNII/AAAAAAAAEdA/ILUtf1nBHhIatLw0XB61ay7NpIzKFeUSgCLcBGAs/s16000/black-h-m-bag-black-forever-21-glasses-black-modcloth-swimwear_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">
We had really great time in Florida -- and I had Tank all to myself. Well, mostly. He still went to a local gym every day. But sometimes I went with him. I was able to take a Zumba dance/exercise class with a bunch of other ladies which was really fun. </span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The whole week was a dream. I would get up extra early to take my shower and to make myself look pretty before Tank even woke up. Then I would make him breakfast and then Tank would have sex with me. I think we did it in every room and on every piece of furniture in the condo! After that would would go out to the beach or to the condo's pool. I think it really turned Tank on seeing me out in public in my bikinis! And even though the beach was public, Tank still made me give him secret hand jobs -- right there on the beach!</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-af4WhiK2bJg/Wskdc6M-crI/AAAAAAAAEc8/ei84Hjfw_W0DoPDpyT3v_NH5g3DhDMpAwCLcBGAs/s1600/black-h-m-bag-black-forever-21-glasses-black-modcloth-swimwear_400.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-af4WhiK2bJg/Wskdc6M-crI/AAAAAAAAEc8/ei84Hjfw_W0DoPDpyT3v_NH5g3DhDMpAwCLcBGAs/s16000/black-h-m-bag-black-forever-21-glasses-black-modcloth-swimwear_400.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">And in the evenings, Tank would take me out to restaurants and night clubs. It was like we were really boyfriend and girlfriend!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I was so proud to be seen with Tank. First of all, he looked so handsome when he put on a nice shirt and pants to go out. And of course, a lot of people would recognize him when we were out and would ask for autographs and selfies. I felt like I was being escorted by a Hollywood celebrity! It was so exciting and dreamy!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Tank was so nice to me the whole time we were away. He even bought me a little gold necklace -- it's a pretty mermaid pendant on a thin gold chain -- for me as a souvenir of our trip.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I was so happy while we were in Florida. I felt like the time there -- parading around in my bikinis, being on the arm of a handsome man, receiving a lovely piece of jewelry -- was making more feminine, more girlish, every day. I think the experience was changing how I thought and how I felt about myself -- and how I felt about Tank. One night, as I was sleeping tightly wrapped in Tank's arms, I even dreamed that I was Tank's wife. Isn't that incredible? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I'm really in love with Tank.</span></div><div><br /></div>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-25820056613070666202023-04-11T16:42:00.001-07:002023-04-11T16:42:49.258-07:00Sissy Roommate Part 7 -- Romantic Autumn Afternoon <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jge-5DOnXq0/Wskc8YUhI4I/AAAAAAAAEcQ/pzhQx8NZtgAzVro45h9RAkBwALkpHZIDwCLcBGAs/s1600/black-ankle-h-m-boots-red-forever-21-bag-black-tulle-diy-skirt_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="534" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jge-5DOnXq0/Wskc8YUhI4I/AAAAAAAAEcQ/pzhQx8NZtgAzVro45h9RAkBwALkpHZIDwCLcBGAs/w356-h534/black-ankle-h-m-boots-red-forever-21-bag-black-tulle-diy-skirt_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="356" /></a></div><b>When Thanksgiving week came around, most students left to go home to spend the week with their families. But Tank had a big game and practices over the Thanksgiving break, so I stayed to be with him. And when Tank wasn't at his two-a-day practices or in the gym, he was spending his free time with me. Here some photos that Tank took of me one afternoon. He had me get all dressed up and we went into the woods. He brought a bottle of wine and we found a secluded place where we drank it and then had sex -- right there in the woods! </b></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>As I've said, my life is getting a bit confusing and complicated since I'm spending so much time dressed up and acting as a sissy girl. Tank is insisting that I should be dressed and made-up like a girl any time that he's in the dorm room! I want to make Tank happy -- and I certainly don't want him to be angry with me -- but it's really hard for me to do what Tank is demanding.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c-gPfDDxb9Y/Wskc-AQrK-I/AAAAAAAAEcU/eTkLCfPpWO0qScpPynTjguUJ5qTuowIWwCLcBGAs/s1600/black-ankle-h-m-boots-red-forever-21-bag-black-tulle-diy-skirt_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="555" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c-gPfDDxb9Y/Wskc-AQrK-I/AAAAAAAAEcU/eTkLCfPpWO0qScpPynTjguUJ5qTuowIWwCLcBGAs/w370-h555/black-ankle-h-m-boots-red-forever-21-bag-black-tulle-diy-skirt_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="370" /></a></div><b>To give you a sense of how complicated my life has become: I have to be all dressed and looking pretty for Tank when he returns to the dorm around 9:00 after his early morning work-outs. He's already eaten breakfast with the team but I always have some eggs and toast ready for him when he comes in that I make on the little hot plate we have. While he eats, he likes to watch ESPN on the TV -- and get a blow job from me. Tank finishes with his breakfast (and with my mouth) a few minutes before 10:00. Then he goes off to take his shower and do whatever he does all morning (I don't think he goes to a lot of classes). But I have 10:00 lectures to get every day -- and no time to wash off my make up and change back into my boy clothes. At first I was skipping a bunch of lectures but I was really falling behind. I realized the only way I could keep up with my lessons was to rush over to the lecture halls still dressed as a girl. I keep to myself and try to sit in the back so that I don't attract too much attention. But sometimes a boy will sit next to me and try to flirt with me. I guess I find that sort of exciting, but I try not to encourage it too much.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5hrX98H4LOk/Wskc-A91F6I/AAAAAAAAEcY/XSbtPKpeTyA80XUM5rQaxLY9yx1K_uOywCLcBGAs/s1600/black-ankle-h-m-boots-red-forever-21-bag-black-tulle-diy-skirt_400.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="549" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5hrX98H4LOk/Wskc-A91F6I/AAAAAAAAEcY/XSbtPKpeTyA80XUM5rQaxLY9yx1K_uOywCLcBGAs/w366-h549/black-ankle-h-m-boots-red-forever-21-bag-black-tulle-diy-skirt_400.jpg" width="366" /></a></div><b>After my morning lectures, I stop by the dining hall -- still dressed as a girl -- and quickly eat my lunch. At first I thought everyone would notice me, but so far I haven't had any real issues. Then I rush back to the dorm because Tank usually shows up there around 12:30 after he's had lunch with his buddies. When Tank arrives, we usually make-out for a little while and then he has sex with me. </b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;">I had to beg Tank to let me change back into my boy clothes in the afternoons because that's when I have my small classes. I can get away with sitting in a big lecture hall pretending to be a girl -- but that doesn't work at all for the small classes. But since I don't have any classes on Friday afternoons, I usually stay dressed as a girl all day long.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Something else happened on that trip to the woods over Thanksgiving. After Tank had finished fucking me, he handed me a small bag. "You have to start taking these," he said. I looked inside and wasn't sure what I was looking at. "They're birth control pills," Tank explained. "You know, female hormones. They will make you more like a real girl." I asked him where he got them and he explained that he told the team doctor that he needed the pills for his girlfriend, and the doctor handed him a six-month supply, no questions asked.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>"But I don't think boys are supposed to take those," I stammered. "I mean, those are only for real girls."</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>"Shut the fuck up, you stupid sissy bitch. I said you're going to take them and that's what you're going to do. In fact, take the first one right now!" </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>I fumbled with the packaging and managed to pop out a single pill from it's container. I washed it down with the wine.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>"Good," said Tank. "Now suck me off quick before I have to go to practice."</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
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<br />Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-90421799969618305872023-03-31T11:11:00.000-07:002023-03-31T11:11:40.478-07:00Sissy Roommate -- Part 6 -- Sissy Doubts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OH4SD1OiPQo/WuJ4sqacqCI/AAAAAAAAEkA/J9Sl4lVnrckpUcUaZxxiB5HEzDamfhUlACLcBGAs/s1600/white-vintage-purse-blue-hair-accessory-black-forever-21-skirt_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OH4SD1OiPQo/WuJ4sqacqCI/AAAAAAAAEkA/J9Sl4lVnrckpUcUaZxxiB5HEzDamfhUlACLcBGAs/s16000/white-vintage-purse-blue-hair-accessory-black-forever-21-skirt_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Tank has been giving me money almost every week to buy more outfits. I think it gets him very excited to send me off to the mall with the assignment of buying clothes to wear that will make me look pretty for him. Here's a cute little outfit I bought on my shopping trip last week. I love this little denim top. I think it really shows off how skinny I've become since I started dieting extra hard. I think my arms look so pretty and feminine in this photo. And of course I bought another short skirt. I love how this one is just a little bit flouncy and how it moves and swings as I walk. But it is so short! If I sit or bend over, my lacy panties are on full display for all to see. </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Tank has been sending me out in public dressed as a girl more frequently. Tank took these pictures of me outside our dorm building before telling me to go to the Student Union to buy some snacks for him. At first I was super nervous about walking around campus looking this way. But I was really surprised to discover that nobody recognized me. I guess that's partly because I was always sort of a loner and didn't have any real friends on campus when I was living as a boy. But I also like to think it's because I look really cute as a girl. I certainly get some admiring looks and sometimes comments from the boys I pass as I walk around campus.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>I think Tank really likes me and that makes me very happy. He certainly gets excited and wants to have sex with me a lot. But I guess I should tell you that Tank sometimes brings girls -- especially cheerleaders -- back to our room. He says he needs to keep up his image and that people would think it was really strange if he wasn't sleeping with a bunch of girls. Anyway, the hardest part is when he texts me that he's bringing a girl over and I have to clear out of the dorm room immediately. And sometimes I'm all dolled up because I was expecting to spend the evening with Tank. So I have to quickly clean off my make-up and change back into my boy clothes and plan on spending the night sleeping on the couch in the TV room downstairs. I guess I get a little jealous when Tank is sleeping with girls and sometimes it's hard for me to fall asleep on the couch thinking about him being in bed with them. But I believe that Tank really loves me -- in his own way -- and that this is just one more way I need to be a good sissy and to be supportive of my man.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JooZ6Y7EQKI/WuJ4slJSDoI/AAAAAAAAEkE/cUTA3IJiJXUe725SaYiC4bzgGmCGypvOgCLcBGAs/s1600/white-vintage-purse-blue-hair-accessory-black-forever-21-skirt_400.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JooZ6Y7EQKI/WuJ4slJSDoI/AAAAAAAAEkE/cUTA3IJiJXUe725SaYiC4bzgGmCGypvOgCLcBGAs/s16000/white-vintage-purse-blue-hair-accessory-black-forever-21-skirt_400.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">A<b>s much as I enjoy making Tank happy -- and as natural as it has become for me to dress and act like a girlish sissy -- sometimes I wonder if I am doing the right thing. Each day I feel a little part of the person I was before I met Tank disappear. Sometimes I even get confused if I'm even really a boy any more. Where will all this lead? </b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;">Anyway, tomorrow I'm going ride the bus back to the mall to buy some more clothes. And this time I am going to go dressed as a girl. That way I can try on things in the ladies dressing room and people won't look at me funny when I'm shopping for bras and underwear. I don't think anyone will guess that I'm not really a girl. Do you?</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
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<br />Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-88374102720877029502023-03-13T07:36:00.000-07:002023-03-13T07:36:57.904-07:00Sissy Roommate - part 5 -- Some New Clothes <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UejNoi3ZbDE/WuJ4CkedGvI/AAAAAAAAEjY/1YxzMi7e8pYHUqsLI7bFv3pawgCT2P27gCLcBGAs/s1600/brown-thrift-shoes-off-white-large-tote-bag-forever-21-bag_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UejNoi3ZbDE/WuJ4CkedGvI/AAAAAAAAEjY/1YxzMi7e8pYHUqsLI7bFv3pawgCT2P27gCLcBGAs/s16000/brown-thrift-shoes-off-white-large-tote-bag-forever-21-bag_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" /></a></div><b>Well, my trip to the mall was quite an adventure. I had made a list of the things I thought I would need. More sexy underwear, some sexy tops and some short short skirts were definitely on the list. I also planned to buy some more make-up and some brushes and sprays to make my hair look nicer. And I hoped I would have enough money left over for some perfume -- I thought that Tank would really enjoy that. But one thing made me extra nervous about my shopping adventure: Tank had also told me to get some clothes to wear outside. He was going to make me go outside fully dressed as a girl! So I needed to be smart about what I bought since this wasn't just for sissy dress-up games in our dorm room.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QD2WARos3s8/WuJ4Cj6BGsI/AAAAAAAAEjQ/crYbKqDpR-Aw8oepWRO2huQpSxTbp5wbwCLcBGAs/s1600/brown-thrift-shoes-off-white-large-tote-bag-forever-21-bag_400.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QD2WARos3s8/WuJ4Cj6BGsI/AAAAAAAAEjQ/crYbKqDpR-Aw8oepWRO2huQpSxTbp5wbwCLcBGAs/s16000/brown-thrift-shoes-off-white-large-tote-bag-forever-21-bag_400.jpg" /></b></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Here's one of the outfits I bought for myself on that first trip to the mall. Don't you like this cute little top? I didn't realize when I bought it that it wouldn't even cover my tummy! But I think it looks super cute. And I think it looks nice with the short plaid skirt I bought. I also bought some shoes and a bag that I could take outside with me.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6T0Aj13wOv4/WuJ4Ch4Z4MI/AAAAAAAAEjU/q-uGg1NMMDwJPmYzlx2XsBqEfhMCoozrACLcBGAs/s1600/brown-thrift-shoes-off-white-large-tote-bag-forever-21-bag_400%2B%25283%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6T0Aj13wOv4/WuJ4Ch4Z4MI/AAAAAAAAEjU/q-uGg1NMMDwJPmYzlx2XsBqEfhMCoozrACLcBGAs/s16000/brown-thrift-shoes-off-white-large-tote-bag-forever-21-bag_400%2B%25283%2529.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Here's a close-up of my face. I think you can see that I've gotten a lot better with my make-up. I think I look very pretty in this photo. Maybe you can tell that I have plucked my eyebrows into a pretty arch shape. That, along with some eyeliner and mascara, helps make my eyes look extra big and pretty. And Tank really likes it when I wear lipstick. With some practice, I've gotten really good at putting it on. I spent a little more to get extra long wearing lipstick because regular lipstick doesn't stay on for very long since Tank likes kissing me so much.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3SpN4BRtkaQ/WuJ4FPmIWGI/AAAAAAAAEjc/GPg8QaRU9rk8p0CSc9wGDnmD8AbJrKZewCLcBGAs/s1600/brown-thrift-shoes-off-white-large-tote-bag-forever-21-bag_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="648" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3SpN4BRtkaQ/WuJ4FPmIWGI/AAAAAAAAEjc/GPg8QaRU9rk8p0CSc9wGDnmD8AbJrKZewCLcBGAs/w432-h648/brown-thrift-shoes-off-white-large-tote-bag-forever-21-bag_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="432" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>And as you can see, Tank was true to his word. He made me go outside behind our dorm to take these photos. I was so scared that someone would see me as we went out the back stairs. But the sensation of being outside dressed as a girl was so exciting! I loved the feeling of the cool fall air on my exposed skin. I loved posing for my man as he took dozens of photos of me. </b></span><b style="font-family: verdana;">And I could tell that Tank was getting excited by taking me outside and making pose for photos. Because when he was done taking pictures, he grabbed me by the wrist and rushed me back upstairs to our dorm room. "All fours! Now!" he growled. I quickly did as I was ordered and positioned myself on my hands and knees on the floor. Tank pulled down his pants and approached me from behind, lifting up my skirt and pulling down my lacy panties. Tank loves to fuck me in all sorts of different positions -- but I think he likes it best when I'm on my hands and knees. I love it when he spanks my bottom while his dick is pumping in and out of me. It gets me so excited when Tank says how tight my "pussy" is while he's fucking me. I have to admit that it's pretty painful when Tank fucks me because his cock is so enormous. Sometimes it hurts so much that I cry while Tank is pounding away at me. But it also makes me feel so happy and fulfilled to be pleasing Tank and to submit to him so completely.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
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<br />Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-55907539618724439942023-02-15T15:22:00.000-08:002023-02-15T15:22:51.947-08:00Sissy Roommate -- Part 4 -- My Purple Dress<span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>So from that day forward, I have been Tank's sissy. He has a tremendous sexual appetite, needing to cum two or three -- and sometimes more -- times every day. He also expects me to do other stuff for him, like his laundry, which I do every day without being asked. I know he expects it so I just do it.<br />
<br />At first, I would go through bouts a doubt and self-loathing. What was I becoming? Why was I doing this? I would think about performing oral sex on Tank and get sick to my stomach. But then these feelings would subside and be replaced by feelings of warmth and happiness and satisfaction unlike any I had ever experienced before, as I assumed the role of the subservient, obedient woman serving her superior, masculine male. </b></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-RM08AUCrRavLQ7IxXeOo4EmkG-_c1ofuY_Kgg8-QPwFftDL197HicS2FvuDYHpJw5V83A-5vAMoJJdARZD2O9fAmAlXE90xFrvmkCYKoF61JG5fHIWWR5jL-L_ENeoxM9MkG05Va78_x9Vq-sgQxs1rkDW7GWnWJ_0iY2aoVC7Ffvjtpm6T0yAZ/s320/red-uo-dress_400.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="151" height="536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-RM08AUCrRavLQ7IxXeOo4EmkG-_c1ofuY_Kgg8-QPwFftDL197HicS2FvuDYHpJw5V83A-5vAMoJJdARZD2O9fAmAlXE90xFrvmkCYKoF61JG5fHIWWR5jL-L_ENeoxM9MkG05Va78_x9Vq-sgQxs1rkDW7GWnWJ_0iY2aoVC7Ffvjtpm6T0yAZ/w253-h536/red-uo-dress_400.jpg" width="253" /></a></div><b>About half of the things I took from the lost and found bin at the gym turned out to fit me pretty well and it seemed to please Tank when I would get dressed up. I also got much better at doing my make-up and making my hair look prettier. I also bought a ladies razor at the drug store and started shaving my body. I really like it when Tank runs his big rough hands up and down my soft, smooth legs. </b></span><div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>The best item that I took from the lost and found was a really pretty purple dress. It had a lovely floral print and a fancy lace inset around the neck line. I felt so pretty when I wore this -- just like a princess! </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Sometimes, when I would emerge from the bathroom after putting on my dress and my make-up, Tank would have me stand in the middle of the room with my gaze directed downward -- a position of total submission. He would say something like, "Who do you belong to, sissy bitch?" and I would reply, "I belong to you, Sir." This little ritual would continue for several minutes until Tank was worked up into a frenzy. Then he would grab me and roughly shove his enormous dick into my mouth. </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXoSTLT7kPnYNd7T1ANchwaiq0PLuqxj2IINFbUFK4ipz8AGtWeyVfVLBj64tymdKZ7liO18WL6zQgNLEKN3KI9fO3m0XhD4TLddNNKCnmw-HP9Yb-Z-wi7uIRAOYVvsXKd4oPQUR9WyHqnrRepmqQp25H6i_Oou_JuJQsAMCWvb7uuIeL2A6fgzwr/s395/red-uo-dress_400%20(2).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="395" data-original-width="208" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXoSTLT7kPnYNd7T1ANchwaiq0PLuqxj2IINFbUFK4ipz8AGtWeyVfVLBj64tymdKZ7liO18WL6zQgNLEKN3KI9fO3m0XhD4TLddNNKCnmw-HP9Yb-Z-wi7uIRAOYVvsXKd4oPQUR9WyHqnrRepmqQp25H6i_Oou_JuJQsAMCWvb7uuIeL2A6fgzwr/w262-h496/red-uo-dress_400%20(2).jpg" width="262" /></a></div><b>Other times, when he saw me wearing this dress, Tank would sit naked on the edge of his bed and he would tell me to climb on his lap and we would make out for a while before he decided it was time for me to suck him off.</b></span></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Even though I looked pretty in the clothes I had taken from the lost and found, after a while, Tank got tired of seeing me wearing the same things all the time. He told me to get some more clothes. He peeled off four $100 bills from a fat roll of money he had in his sock drawer and threw them at me. "Go buy some new clothes. Get some sexy stuff."</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>I had never bought girls clothes before but at least I knew something about my size based on the things I took from the gym. I decided that the next day I would take the bus to the mall.</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><br /></b></span><br />
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</div></div></div>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-3298004877637321942023-02-07T12:25:00.000-08:002023-02-07T12:25:26.121-08:00Sissy Roommate Part 3 -- I Chose a Path<span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>After Tank forced me to give him a blow job, I raced out of our room and cleaned myself up in the public bathroom down the hall. I decided that in the morning that I would go first to the Dean's office to report Tank and then go to the Housing office to demand a new room. </b><b>I was going to tell them everything that happened to me last night. I would probably get Tank expelled. Or arrested. </b><b>But for now, it was late at night and there was no way I was going to go back to my room. I went down to the TV lounge on the first floor of the dorm. I tried to fall asleep on the couch but I had no luck. I was still awake at 4:30 in the morning when a special edition of the university newspaper was delivered to the dorm. </b></span></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>I picked up a copy of the paper and couldn't believe my eyes. </b></span></span><b style="font-family: verdana;">The front page -- I mean the entire front page -- was a photo of Tank! A one word headline splashed across the top of the page, "Savior!" I proceeded to read the story about Tank -- 3 whole pages and about 10 more photos! Tank was one of the most highly recruited high school athletes in the entire country having set about a million high school records in football and track. After an impressive performance as a Freshman at a powerhouse SEC school, he had, at the last minute, decided to transfer to State U. It was highly unusual and top NCAA officials had to approve the transfer. The article eventually got around to some interesting stuff; at his prior university, there had been accusations of sexual assault and other things. There was even a rumor that he had broken the jaw of a teammate for blowing a coverage assignment -- during practice! But no actual charges were ever filed against him. I got the feeling that people had been covering-up for this guy for years! And now, here he was. At State U and in my room!</b></div><div><b style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></b></div><div><b style="font-family: verdana;">I thought about how I planned to complain to the Dean and realized that maybe this wasn't such a great idea. Getting Tank to come to State U was probably the administration's greatest accomplishment. Nobody was going to listen to my complaints. I sat there on couch in the TV lounge struggling to make sense of my predicament.</b><b style="font-family: verdana;"> And eventually I drifted off to sleep. </b></div><div><b style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></b></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>As I slept, I had the strangest dreams. I dreamt about Tank. I dreamt that I really was a woman. I dreamt about being called "girl" and "bitch" and "slut," like Tank had called me. And scariest of all, I dreamt about performing oral sex on Tank, his enormous hard dick sliding in and out of my mouth while I eagerly sucked on it. Oh God! What was happening to me?</b></span><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b><br /></b></span><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>The dream continued. Now a soft voice was calling to me saying over and over, "We're here for whatever you need. We're here for whatever you need. Just ask. Just ask." That's what the little man had said before he left our room. And in the dream I looked in a mirror and my reflection was a beautiful girl! I had breasts and wore a pretty dress and make-up. "Whatever you need...whatever you need..." And again, Tank's massive dick was in my mouth, my head vigorously bobbing up until he came.</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>I woke with a start, my head pounding. I got up off the couch and wandered around campus as the sun was just starting to rise. I walked down to the Athletic Center which was open but practically empty. I found myself walking past the girls' locker room. There was a huge bin by the door labeled, "Lost and Found." I stopped in front of the bin and looked in it. There were dozens of pieces of clothing and underwear in a jumble. No one was around so I reached in and pulled out a pretty, lacy pink bra. I shuddered as I held it.</b></span><br /></span>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jvxoRjcvfgg/Wnz4WuB_OMI/AAAAAAAAEZE/PTgDPQ3ZOWQuZiofKjBIbFlR9Oa5ACXlgCLcBGAs/s1600/black-diy-crop-top-diy-blouse-black-jean-mini-skirt-h-m-skirt_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="389" data-original-width="197" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jvxoRjcvfgg/Wnz4WuB_OMI/AAAAAAAAEZE/PTgDPQ3ZOWQuZiofKjBIbFlR9Oa5ACXlgCLcBGAs/s640/black-diy-crop-top-diy-blouse-black-jean-mini-skirt-h-m-skirt_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="323" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>There was a large plastic shopping bag on the floor near the bin. Without thinking, I grabbed the bag and starting cramming handfuls of clothing from the bin into the bag. When it was full, I found a paper grocery bag and filled it too. As I started lifting clothes out of the bin, I noticed that there were some lipsticks and other make-up items rolling around the bottom of the bin. I grabbed those as well. I even found a necklace and a bracelet and those also went into my bag. With my two bags of girls' things I made my way out of the back of the Athletic Center and walked back to my dorm.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>When I entered, Tank was just getting up. I noticed that he had thrown his dirty socks and underwear on my bed. Tank said to me, "Well, did you do what I told you to do? Did you get some girly stuff to wear?"</b></span><br />
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<span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>I looked at the floor. I was so ashamed to be pushed around like this. It was so humiliating. And yet I felt so powerless to resist. "Yes," I said softly. </b></span><br />
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<span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>"Good. Put it on and then get over here. And hurry up."</b></span><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>I took my two bags of clothes into the bathroom. I dumped out my random clothes onto the floor, having no idea what I had gathered or what size everything was. I stripped down and slipped on the pretty pick lacy bra and some panties that were really tight. I rolled up two pairs of panty hose and used them to fill out the bra cups. Then I put on very short black denim skirt and a pink and black paisley top that didn't even cover my tummy. I slipped on the necklace and the bracelet. I was about to go back into the room when I remembered that I should put on make-up. I chose one of the lipsticks and quickly put some on, although I don't think I did a very good job with it.</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wXljQ_AnQVQ/Wnz4WjNdNkI/AAAAAAAAEZI/koWTx1Fbecg6Jh3m4Gdqpe3B-nECrmuPgCLcBGAs/s1600/black-diy-crop-top-diy-blouse-black-jean-mini-skirt-h-m-skirt_400.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="394" data-original-width="199" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wXljQ_AnQVQ/Wnz4WjNdNkI/AAAAAAAAEZI/koWTx1Fbecg6Jh3m4Gdqpe3B-nECrmuPgCLcBGAs/s640/black-diy-crop-top-diy-blouse-black-jean-mini-skirt-h-m-skirt_400.jpg" width="323" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>I was checking myself in the bathroom mirror and was getting dizzy seeing this very feminine reflection in the mirror when Tank bellowed from the other room, "Hurry up!" I snapped out of my reverie and returned to the bedroom where Tank was waiting for me, completely naked.</b></span><br />
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<span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>"Let me see you," Tank said. I stood in front of Tank, my eyes lowered, too ashamed to look at Tank. "Yeah, that's a lot better. You know you should have been born a girl. I mean just look at you." I felt like crying from the shame of my situation -- and yet I was strangely excited by what was happening.</b></span><br />
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<span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>"Well don't just stand there. Get busy." Tank plopped down on his bed. I sat down on the edge of the bed and started rubbing his cock which got hard almost instantly. "Mmmm, yeah baby, I like that. You are a good little whore." And after a few minutes he said, "Now suck me off, slut." I obeyed. I slid his giant cock into my mouth and licked and sucked and did everything I could think of to it. Tank didn't have to force me this time. I submitted to Tank's superiority and assumed my new position as his sissy.</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""helvetica neue", arial, helvetica, sans-serif"><b>As Tank came in my mouth, he growled, "That's right, swallow it all, bitch. You like that, don't you, you little whore." I did my best to swallow it all down but there was just so much. Some escaped my lips and dribbled down my chin. Having no more use for me, Tank roughly shoved me away, saying, "Clean yourself up, you filthy cunt. You're a disgrace. And do my laundry."</b></span><br /></span>
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<br /></div>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-9424334311271114732023-01-28T10:31:00.000-08:002023-01-28T10:31:42.855-08:00Sissy Roommate -- Part 2 -- The First Time<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1JvIkShgTJc/WndEEITx_TI/AAAAAAAAEYo/AvnDjq05Pco8TzdujCq1Undt7-5TJP2CwCLcBGAs/s1600/red-plaid-crop-top-h-m-shirt-blue-flared-denim-forever-21-skirt_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1JvIkShgTJc/WndEEITx_TI/AAAAAAAAEYo/AvnDjq05Pco8TzdujCq1Undt7-5TJP2CwCLcBGAs/s1600/red-plaid-crop-top-h-m-shirt-blue-flared-denim-forever-21-skirt_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b>As I said, I am Tank's full-time sissy girlfriend now. I wear only girl clothes and make-up and I keep my hair long and in a very feminine style. I diet to stay super skinny. I slather my body with creams and lotions to keep my skin soft. I do this all to please Tank. I haven't seen Tank all summer and he should be arriving any minute. Here are some photos Tank took of me last spring. He likes it when I wear really short skirts.</b></span><br />
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<b>But I wasn't always a girlish sissy living only to serve a demanding, strong alpha-male. My life changed completely that first day that I met him.</b><br />
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<span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b>"Come over here," Tank said, without even bothering to ask my name. "I have a cramp in my leg. I need you to massage it for me." Tank pulled off the sweat pants he had been wearing, revealing a thin pair of nylon gym shorts.</b></span><br />
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</span><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pVcMGzov0JE/WndEELza9GI/AAAAAAAAEYs/jZzUJAGJaVAfn4QougYm8fMfm3tP_kQUACLcBGAs/s1600/red-plaid-crop-top-h-m-shirt-blue-flared-denim-forever-21-skirt_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pVcMGzov0JE/WndEELza9GI/AAAAAAAAEYs/jZzUJAGJaVAfn4QougYm8fMfm3tP_kQUACLcBGAs/s1600/red-plaid-crop-top-h-m-shirt-blue-flared-denim-forever-21-skirt_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b>I did not want to do what Tank was asking. "I don't know anything about massages or..." I started to explain.</b></span><br />
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<span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b>"Just do it now!" he demanded, pointing to his thigh.</b></span></span><br /><span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b><br /><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b>I don't know why, but I complied with his order. I figured he was an important athlete and that I should try to help him out if I could. I knelt by his bed and started rubbing his thigh.</b></span><br />
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<span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b>"Mmm. Yeah. That's good. Rub harder. Yeah," he said. I was pleased that I was doing it right. "You're hands are so soft. Like a girl's." I felt embarrassed when he said that but I kept on rubbing his thigh.</b></span></span><br />
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</span><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a9tiW1J3Zkw/WndEEMVk8gI/AAAAAAAAEYw/XoFOYUJK97AL7bcJ4wG-C4jLwTPk9JgngCLcBGAs/s1600/red-plaid-crop-top-h-m-shirt-blue-flared-denim-forever-21-skirt_400.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a9tiW1J3Zkw/WndEEMVk8gI/AAAAAAAAEYw/XoFOYUJK97AL7bcJ4wG-C4jLwTPk9JgngCLcBGAs/s1600/red-plaid-crop-top-h-m-shirt-blue-flared-denim-forever-21-skirt_400.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b>"Now jerk me off," Tank said as if it were the most natural request in the world. I was completely shocked when he said that. I pulled away from him and said I wouldn't do that. "Yes you will," he insisted. With one hand he yanked down his shorts and with the other he grabbed my wrist and forced my hand on his enormous dick. "Do it," he commanded, keeping his hand firmly wrapped around my wrist. I was really scared and no match for this mountain of a man. I wrapped my fingers around his huge cock and started stroking him, pumping him. "Yeah, bitch! That's it!" His breathing got more rapid and his dick started swelling.</b></span><br />
<span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b><br /></b></span><span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b>"You know," he said, "You sort of look like a girl. You got long hair and no muscles. Yeah, I think we're going to pretend that you really are a girl." He was really panting now.</b></span></span><br /><span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>"Use your mouth, bitch" he ordered. No way I was going to that, but Tank grabbed hold of my hair and forced my head to his crotch. I sealed my lips tightly closed, but with his other hand, Tank pinched my nose so I couldn't breathe. "Open wide, slut," he said with a laugh. As I opened my mouth to gasp for air, Tank jammed his dick into my mouth. With both of his hands now tightly holding my head in place, I had no ability to move or fight back. And in an instant, Tank's cock exploded, filling my mouth with spurt after spurt of his hot, sticky cum.</b><br />
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<span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b>When he was done with me, he roughly shoved me away. "Next time, wear a dress and some make-up or something so it won't feel so gay."</b></span><br />
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<span face=""trebuchet ms", sans-serif"><b>"What the fuck," was all I could think, as I pulled myself up from the floor and ran out of the room. </b></span><br /></span>
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Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-62117951076218797372023-01-22T16:39:00.000-08:002023-01-22T16:39:14.500-08:00Sissy Roommate -- Part 1 -- What I Look Like Now<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d2v9oAGk3us/WirzQvTSUKI/AAAAAAAAESM/1nUCa-bcQ2YAGYyLqwsiPcpgPTShWZIIwCLcBGAs/s1600/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d2v9oAGk3us/WirzQvTSUKI/AAAAAAAAESM/1nUCa-bcQ2YAGYyLqwsiPcpgPTShWZIIwCLcBGAs/s1600/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>It's the start of the college year. I would be a junior now except that I dropped out after the end of last year. But my boyfriend, Tank, is starting his junior year. I didn't think I would be able to take care of him properly and go to classes at the same time so I dropped out. </b><br />
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<b>I have been working for days getting our off-campus apartment ready before Tank arrives later this afternoon. I bought new sheets and towels for him, new pots and pans for our kitchen, even some nice pictures to hang on the walls. And I scrubbed every inch of the place so it would be sparkling clean when Tank arrives. Of course I had to spend most of the money I earned waiting tables this summer, but it will all be worth it if Tank is happy with how our apartment looks -- and if he is happy with me. And I spent the rest of my money on some pretty new clothes and shoes. I don't have a single dollar left -- but that's OK because Tank has tons of money.</b><br /></span>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n_oS62OGNgk/WirzNr7kZ3I/AAAAAAAAESI/y1DaM5quKf4e-tgn6CmrpytSgkb76YfUgCLcBGAs/s1600/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n_oS62OGNgk/WirzNr7kZ3I/AAAAAAAAESI/y1DaM5quKf4e-tgn6CmrpytSgkb76YfUgCLcBGAs/s1600/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400%2B%25282%2529.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif"><b>I finished all the apartment chores about an hour ago. That left me time to get cleaned up, do my make-up and put on one of my pretty new outfits before Tank is scheduled to arrive. Do you like how I look? I bought this dress over the summer and I think it is sweet and sexy at the same time. And I think Tank will go crazy when he sees my over-the-knee socks and platform sandals. What do you think? After being apart all summer, I really hope Tank likes what he sees when he arrives. I don't like to disappoint him. M</b></span><b>aybe I have gotten ahead of myself. Let me fill you in on some things. First of all, Tank and I have been roommates since the beginning of last year. Tank is a superstar football player - that's where his nickname comes from. Oh, and one more thing. I'm not really a girl. I'm Tank's sissy. </b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif">It all started last September, at the beginning of my Sophomore year. I had a really great dorm room -- a double room with its own bathroom -- but I had no roommate. The Housing Office warned me that at some point I would be assigned a roommate and that my "single" was not a permanent thing. Well, about one week into the semester, I came back to my room after dinner and there was this enormous guy in my room -- 6' 8" at least. Everything about him was huge -- his shoulders, his neck, his biceps. With him was a little man in a suit who was talking a mile a minute. "Well, Tank," the man said to him, "Since your decision to come to State U was so sudden, this is the best room we have for you. Of course, we'd rather have you down in the Athletes' Village by the gym, but that's all full right now. But on behalf of the administration, the university is DELIGHTED to have you join us! I hope you can make do with this housing...situation until we can get you a more appropriate room."</span><span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif"> The little man seemed to be referring to me as part of the lousy rooming situation that Tank was going to have to tolerate.</span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U50Ep8v80s0/WirzNnYy_zI/AAAAAAAAESE/p5ToEoPZ8pEA1AoihuWn5XyV9WtmQexMACLcBGAs/s1600/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U50Ep8v80s0/WirzNnYy_zI/AAAAAAAAESE/p5ToEoPZ8pEA1AoihuWn5XyV9WtmQexMACLcBGAs/s1600/periwinkle-tabbi-socks-socks-navy-asoscom-romper_400%2B%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif"><b><span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif">"I'll make </span>it work," Tank replied, his voice, a deep, rumbling baritone that sounded like distant thunder.</b></span><br />
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<b>"That's swell, Tank! Just swell! Let me know if there is anything we can do for you," the little man said as he handed Tank his card -- and an envelope that I would later learn was stuffed with cash. "And good luck with the season. We hear that you just might break a lot of school records and even take us to a Bowl Game this year! And let me know if you need anything. We're here for whatever you need. Just ask." With that the little man excused himself. </b><br />
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<b>The two of us were now alone in our room. Tank plopped down on his bed and looked over to me. I thought he was going to start a conversation, but instead just said, "Come over here."</b></span></div>
Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-86328291292250530232022-12-18T12:48:00.000-08:002022-12-18T12:48:32.986-08:00A Christmastime Sissy - Part 2<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHtu_YH0Qz8Gev9YLaeedMe_ShfV0Bb-hQmAhqA_9BGmovpSxFYyQ3eeFDM0Q1yT6SP87Tz77k0dlTPqmvaIfXOs8Nh8bujG491O_za8MKG9M2bP9SDBEp-9BtuO-Jc2Qkzi6FOSTvcxMxOAEiuJJ8m_qigkyO4rQl5D-JqddG-6u21mVdiQHAggdF/s443/gettyimages-89291745-612x612.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="443" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHtu_YH0Qz8Gev9YLaeedMe_ShfV0Bb-hQmAhqA_9BGmovpSxFYyQ3eeFDM0Q1yT6SP87Tz77k0dlTPqmvaIfXOs8Nh8bujG491O_za8MKG9M2bP9SDBEp-9BtuO-Jc2Qkzi6FOSTvcxMxOAEiuJJ8m_qigkyO4rQl5D-JqddG-6u21mVdiQHAggdF/s16000/gettyimages-89291745-612x612.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">As I explained in my previous post, my husband, "Suzanne," is a crossdressing sissy. I love him very much and I decided to give him the greatest gift of all at Christmas -- the freedom to be exactly who he wanted to be. Suzanne had a "hall pass" for the months of December and January to be the woman he always dreamed of being -- and to do it with his handsome boyfriend, Paul.</span><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">When January was halfway over, I was beginning to realize just how happy Suzanne had been living out his fantasy of being a woman. I mean, just look at these photos. Suzanne looks so at peace, so fulfilled. And while I wanted to get my husband back, I also felt I had to duty to help Suzanne achieve his/her own destiny.</span></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9gO7YnFU2ojTZTlr-FlK_7lnoPpxkbjPjDTnPVzpGbmjnwZlfAA6iaKAwt5MwEJSyAsLxXcJvJGGCTEfY6tLj2-TXnRK-UWLryyN6-SSezGXCUbzwr6DqQx0r7w-ssfTDXzvZZVtmK2xiDnt3Yw67ism9Uov-7_BajP7r_ozpPgvFS5Js7jQQ5Hw/s612/gettyimages-89291746-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="459" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9gO7YnFU2ojTZTlr-FlK_7lnoPpxkbjPjDTnPVzpGbmjnwZlfAA6iaKAwt5MwEJSyAsLxXcJvJGGCTEfY6tLj2-TXnRK-UWLryyN6-SSezGXCUbzwr6DqQx0r7w-ssfTDXzvZZVtmK2xiDnt3Yw67ism9Uov-7_BajP7r_ozpPgvFS5Js7jQQ5Hw/s16000/gettyimages-89291746-612x612.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">At the cafe where we were having lunch together, I was about to tell Suzanne that he could continue living as a woman with Paul, if that's what he really wanted. Instead, Suzanne surprised me with an offer of his own.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">"Honey," he said, "You know that I have been enjoying my time with Paul over the past six weeks. And you know that I also love you so very much." I nodded in agreement, a few tears started to well up in my eyes.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">"Well, Paul came up with an interesting idea. Why don't the three of us...get together. You know, as a "Throuple" as the kids say. He's a very nice man and I'm sure you find him attractive." I couldn't respond. I was stunned by what I was hearing.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhpoqD_P-hqEgkOl61ui1CyJdVuqFoHxB58nvO2BvE7dQ315RYYMqTtQvjU__Py_y9WMdSBt3OEs_BgFrBHr-J5McfieXcVCM2wYhjHFdbz-KEQ45V4ZnwGiCfFLmuuM0LExAG7BQOpD0AyHlpmRUmwY8rBqozHI4ZB4ZNio6jee8xd0U1hfdNiBq/s612/gettyimages-89291747-612x612.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhpoqD_P-hqEgkOl61ui1CyJdVuqFoHxB58nvO2BvE7dQ315RYYMqTtQvjU__Py_y9WMdSBt3OEs_BgFrBHr-J5McfieXcVCM2wYhjHFdbz-KEQ45V4ZnwGiCfFLmuuM0LExAG7BQOpD0AyHlpmRUmwY8rBqozHI4ZB4ZNio6jee8xd0U1hfdNiBq/s16000/gettyimages-89291747-612x612.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">"But why not give it a try. Who says we have to chose between being together and me living as Suzanne? I know it might sound crazy at first, but please just think about it. I think it could be wonderful. I love being Suzanne. And I love you. And I love the experience of being romanced and cared for by a real man. Paul would do the same for you. If you let him."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">I was speechless. But looking across the table at my beautiful Suzanne -- his hair and make-up just so perfect. His lovely smile and his pretty eyes. His feminine gestures and lilting, gentle voice. I felt an odd desire for him that I hadn't ever felt before. He was just so...ladylike and elegant. And then add in all the talk of having me get romantically involved with that handsome man. My pulse starting racing and my panties started to get damp.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoyd30wiNAjlzW0EYD4Ve_7QW4ZmsOlyuViWBGd1i8PgZRMGk5hJFODa17SNNFvjOEFHEgLEqoTscLxEgPjJnCz2cgoBF4YY2IsFMPBPIvJuLFSA1bw0m41RpehvJ5FNnfQXEwHXiH-R_2HoSxlGlGxKoF9c5wHYR5BnEF8j58fTCZ8cIYV4Cq5pXx/s612/gettyimages-170693108-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoyd30wiNAjlzW0EYD4Ve_7QW4ZmsOlyuViWBGd1i8PgZRMGk5hJFODa17SNNFvjOEFHEgLEqoTscLxEgPjJnCz2cgoBF4YY2IsFMPBPIvJuLFSA1bw0m41RpehvJ5FNnfQXEwHXiH-R_2HoSxlGlGxKoF9c5wHYR5BnEF8j58fTCZ8cIYV4Cq5pXx/s16000/gettyimages-170693108-612x612.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">"Please say you'll think about," Suzanne begged. "I think the three of us could have a wonderful life together."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Well, dear reader, that all happened five years ago. I did agree to Paul and Suzanne's offer. And our lives have become an exciting, magical journey. Over the course of those five years, so much has happened: Paul's divorce was finalized, I sold my house and we all moved in together in Paul's lovely home, Suzanne started hormones and has become more womanly and more beautiful each day. And while Suzanne and I are still legally married to each other, we even had a commitment ceremony where the three of us effectively "married" each other.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzz83D2ta9b7zdn8sFdO_bbzu95eq9S3JS0ROLs2daLw5E0nQMslN7cuRhENZB9d8h_znjeTudhNwoBhN0gPB9b_3bXSUC1SkyP6UgcTGJZ_BhGXA5tI7gh-57RQ2Jq5hBDFVd3OlK2rtY5dD8pTB0Cc1QIFDZBxRHVdClYILipnSEMsV1txZpc3Dj/s612/gettyimages-89291772-612x612.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzz83D2ta9b7zdn8sFdO_bbzu95eq9S3JS0ROLs2daLw5E0nQMslN7cuRhENZB9d8h_znjeTudhNwoBhN0gPB9b_3bXSUC1SkyP6UgcTGJZ_BhGXA5tI7gh-57RQ2Jq5hBDFVd3OlK2rtY5dD8pTB0Cc1QIFDZBxRHVdClYILipnSEMsV1txZpc3Dj/s16000/gettyimages-89291772-612x612.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Suzanne is delighted to take care of almost all the chores around the house. She prepares lovely meals for us, does all the laundry and tidying. She fusses over Paul and me like some idealized housewife from the past.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">And of course, there is the sex. I hadn't realized how much I missed being in the arms of a real man. And believe me, Paul is quite the stud. He is tall and strong and very muscular. And his cock is massive! My own husband couldn't ever give me that kind of experience -- even when he wasn't dressed up like a girl.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Most nights the three of us climb into our king size bed together. Suzanne and I usually wear matching nightgowns and we lay on either side of Paul. As we snuggle up against his naked body, he wraps his big arms around us and pulls us close, our heads laying on his strong chest. Love comes in all combinations -- sometimes all three of us at once, often any combination of the two of us. I never feel any jealousy; my needs are fully satisfied and I am delighted when Paul and Suzanne have their intimate moments together. (And sometimes I like to watch!)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yMbYntw0CK_FzP5RTwHAREW_7AEZNKHZtv80LevRpCe4vc6HTVR4FKVCdcy3OPSJ13TNIpD5KV-H54POQjVDkdzUZaDqcxeWaymkY5HzwLg-TFkDrotv9dtJ8QiFGsb9gU5pFPI5M-lQu702Tzo1DPiEAMwlXl_OANXJmBMUtwiZmKd0T4LAlJ7D/s612/gettyimages-170693109-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4yMbYntw0CK_FzP5RTwHAREW_7AEZNKHZtv80LevRpCe4vc6HTVR4FKVCdcy3OPSJ13TNIpD5KV-H54POQjVDkdzUZaDqcxeWaymkY5HzwLg-TFkDrotv9dtJ8QiFGsb9gU5pFPI5M-lQu702Tzo1DPiEAMwlXl_OANXJmBMUtwiZmKd0T4LAlJ7D/s16000/gettyimages-170693109-612x612.jpg" /></a></div>Paul often travels for work. Sometimes, one or both of us will go with him. But most often we both stay behind, making that a special time for just the two of us. I don't look at Suzanne as my husband any more -- I look at him as my beautiful, feminine lover and best friend. And with that perspective, I delight in our lovemaking when it is just the two of us. I love Suzanne's soft and smooth skin, her skinny delicate frame, her tiny adorable dick, and her extremely talented tongue.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">So that is my Christmastime sissy story. Maybe I should say it was my own Christmas miracle.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">I hope all of your sissy dreams come true this Christmastime!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /> <p></p></div>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-81522987136765525292022-12-12T07:40:00.000-08:002022-12-12T07:40:22.691-08:00A Christmastime Sissy - Part 1<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Well, Christmastime is almost here. And I thought you would enjoy hearing a Christmas story about my sissy husband. I've included a few Christmas photos of my husband -- that's him with the long curly hair, the pretty blue dress and the beautiful smile.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqoyF77zO71oYCndYP8QGDmqnR4Hjah--UkZm6C7gkKQVXfwRbv4Q-DPT9hjSma1Du2OL40NzLfYwZqcDdfcNpNMoaRfjj1dBYScherxCtTHRXkfxlbtOLymz9g6rBsPFmLycyN5F1aQj7Tix7Oi-vOv2-UrDU-aSFe-TH1nCbOTwIKEin6i-yszk/s443/gettyimages-89291745-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="443" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqoyF77zO71oYCndYP8QGDmqnR4Hjah--UkZm6C7gkKQVXfwRbv4Q-DPT9hjSma1Du2OL40NzLfYwZqcDdfcNpNMoaRfjj1dBYScherxCtTHRXkfxlbtOLymz9g6rBsPFmLycyN5F1aQj7Tix7Oi-vOv2-UrDU-aSFe-TH1nCbOTwIKEin6i-yszk/s16000/gettyimages-89291745-612x612.jpg" /></a></div>My husband has been a crossdressing sissy throughout his entire life. I knew he was into dressing up in ladies clothes before we were married -- and I didn't mind -- really. But over the first few years of our marriage, I began to understand just how deep his feminine needs ran. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had no problem with him dressing up as "Suzanne" on the weekends. I even went out to bars with him a couple of times when he was all dolled up. And when he was dressed up as Suzanne, he really enjoyed acting like the housewife in our relationship. And do you think I was going to complain that he did almost all of the cleaning and cooking just because he was wearing a dress, a frilly apron and heels? No way! I'm no fool. I had a great thing going.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyd2ZhEZk9R7V1X_XcSxLsmdq1tcAGobNdhdYwrpe1uSHX4FstNeMCLmrFhLArcOmm1gie-OiL9gXAj43ImOxWvko1oNU2do2sC8oSfnEU5d1qAQrMT74Mm0m3Rz_lq5SaBdMRuJ39vpHEOEpFJHp4QQhujAs6X9guxZ7DDBreFv_1QtffvpYpqvnm/s612/gettyimages-170693109-612x612.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyd2ZhEZk9R7V1X_XcSxLsmdq1tcAGobNdhdYwrpe1uSHX4FstNeMCLmrFhLArcOmm1gie-OiL9gXAj43ImOxWvko1oNU2do2sC8oSfnEU5d1qAQrMT74Mm0m3Rz_lq5SaBdMRuJ39vpHEOEpFJHp4QQhujAs6X9guxZ7DDBreFv_1QtffvpYpqvnm/s16000/gettyimages-170693109-612x612.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">But over time I began to understand that I was seeing just the tip of the sissy iceberg. The part that I couldn't see, that was lurking beneath the surface of the water, was an unstoppable need for my sissy husband to push the boundaries, to come as close to experiencing life as a real woman as he could. And that of course led to...men! </span></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I knew that Suzanne was spending a lot of time each day on the internet -- but I didn't know what he/she was doing. As it turned out, Suzanne was meeting men who were looking for "relationships" with feminine, pretty, submissive sissies, just like my husband. It took some time, but eventually I got onto Suzanne's email and blogs -- and let me tell you -- I nearly fell down. There were dozens of men -- literally dozens! -- flirting with my husband, sharing photos, and asking Suzanne for dates -- and more!</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I was surprised to learn how many men out there are really into sissies. But I wasn't really surprised that Suzanne had caught their eye. As a man, my husband is rather unassuming. But when all dolled up as Suzanne, he is very attractive, I have to admit. The few times we went out together as girls, he always got a lot of attention, compliments and free drinks from the men floating around the bar. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">One of Suzanne's online suitors turned out to be a very successful lawyer named Paul who was separated from his wife. Paul lived in a town about 20 minutes away from where we lived. By scrolling through Suzanne's email, I realized that they had been seeing each other -- very carefully and infrequently -- for several months. That sneaky Suzanne! I had no idea until I read his/her email.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ7vXhRZlWTO-FlqON33exxeY6Y1nhaii7Qzx9WiTGvTlrwugxclmOVEdI03NxrscrvOzPLUPces3I0OQT0H5H_9ZKZEck3HRH_-uOb-UDLhC820sznO8637LJOxb1CJ_bHdqIRfjvHkxUyQOCu366-M0LzLm3xXb3UZO1QTFN8VkiEOCwN_wA2dH3/s612/gettyimages-170693108-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ7vXhRZlWTO-FlqON33exxeY6Y1nhaii7Qzx9WiTGvTlrwugxclmOVEdI03NxrscrvOzPLUPces3I0OQT0H5H_9ZKZEck3HRH_-uOb-UDLhC820sznO8637LJOxb1CJ_bHdqIRfjvHkxUyQOCu366-M0LzLm3xXb3UZO1QTFN8VkiEOCwN_wA2dH3/s16000/gettyimages-170693108-612x612.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Anyway, around Thanksgiving, I confronted my husband with what I had found. He tried to deny it at first but he quickly surrendered since there was just too much evidence against him. But once he admitted to what he had been up to, I reassured him. I told him I didn't like him being unfaithful. But because I understood what a complete sissy he was, being unfaithful with another man wasn't as bad as being unfaithful with another woman. </span></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I told him that I was going to give Suzanne a very special Christmas gift: a two-month "hall pass." Suzanne could do whatever she wanted -- anything at all -- for the next two months, until the end of January. But I wanted her to get it out of her system and then I expected my husband to come back to me. My husband agreed to my proposal with tears of gratitude. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">"Well, girl," I said to him. "Get busy. Because on February 1, your hall pass expires. So go be a woman, in whatever way you need to." </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm sure that Suzanne's boyfriend, Paul, wasn't going to believe his good luck. Instead of stealthily seeing Suzanne on a few rare occasions, he was going to get to have as much of Suzanne as he could handle for two whole months. </span></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojexp6I4q3MlmL5wRLFQQOlYnFC58Iz9EF-zTcrFKZ3COGCQTn0qMUNSMwkt_HbInVILbzqCgf9_pembnSYFzElq-9tEhrOhUhGi_FBe8fynWPlfCzTc1YAgI4RW4NfSS3oX0UTCcAMGQFrLuusAFxHU6D1gkfSgrcmyMvwgrntgf9KCJ9nRMcXv4/s612/gettyimages-89291748-612x612.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojexp6I4q3MlmL5wRLFQQOlYnFC58Iz9EF-zTcrFKZ3COGCQTn0qMUNSMwkt_HbInVILbzqCgf9_pembnSYFzElq-9tEhrOhUhGi_FBe8fynWPlfCzTc1YAgI4RW4NfSS3oX0UTCcAMGQFrLuusAFxHU6D1gkfSgrcmyMvwgrntgf9KCJ9nRMcXv4/s16000/gettyimages-89291748-612x612.jpg" /></a></div>And that brings us to Christmas. As you can see in the photos, these two love birds thoroughly enjoyed their time together. Just look how pretty and happy my Suzanne looks. And her boyfriend is actually a very nice man, fairly wealthy and not bad looking at all. Suzanne really scored a winner. </span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">But as the days in January flew by, I was left with so many doubts. Looking at these Christmas photos showed me just how much Suzanne enjoyed acting as the wife/girlfriend to a real man. He/she seemed freer and happier than I can remember him being for a long time. I didn't want to lose my husband that I love so much. But I also didn't want to take away from him an experience and a lifestyle that was clearly so fulfilling for him. So around the middle of January, after having given it much thought, I decided to have a conversation with Suzanne. We met for lunch at a local cafe -- something we had been doing once a week throughout December and January. I decided that I was going to leave it up to Suzanne to chose to either come home to me or to stay with his boyfriend. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Well, as we sat down for lunch, and as I was about to start my prepared speech, Suzanne surprised me and started speaking. "Honey," she started, "I have something important to discuss with you..."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <p></p>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-27772062872342918592022-11-28T11:20:00.001-08:002022-12-12T07:42:00.503-08:00Taking my Sissy Husband on Vacation<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiu5YHKUf_mNcfQDLO3OzhJ7pHCyMj6KgGvLiC3fB7PcGRFCv9fkz0DkIszodCMCdcreat96vV9HKcMg5SwbxjpWlg0chfowfzwJ4aqxD8i55RHoQ3wrhuDOwT647EIeA15uppJszZ5mU6nGhaD3lY278IkbKmI4qlFzCnW4CnlXmB7D-hPVSVZdfeW=s612" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="612" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiu5YHKUf_mNcfQDLO3OzhJ7pHCyMj6KgGvLiC3fB7PcGRFCv9fkz0DkIszodCMCdcreat96vV9HKcMg5SwbxjpWlg0chfowfzwJ4aqxD8i55RHoQ3wrhuDOwT647EIeA15uppJszZ5mU6nGhaD3lY278IkbKmI4qlFzCnW4CnlXmB7D-hPVSVZdfeW=w400-h267" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>My husband and I are having the most wonderful vacation together. That's me in the photo on the left, the brunette in the black dress. But that's not my husband in the photo! That's my new vacation boyfriend, Jerry. I met Jerry earlier this week at the resort bar. You see my husband is not a real man like Jerry. My husband is a feminine, submissive sissy. <br /></b></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgfDJn5YUOv6ajVzR3LC3JIiNrH1586GGPIQSVELWuag996e9nnLL7DYwuJdOzhqaqLjhAetbJdf8inVVQkkLKIIHCrXwJcw1SEphwNR9dnG8As5R4neZ4D8PA1q3KxRR1IJ5_FAG4oXGZP1-vSaY7LByX-PzR9UHjBAy52k_C8evBau765Nkh_WTJR=s419" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="337" data-original-width="419" height="389" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgfDJn5YUOv6ajVzR3LC3JIiNrH1586GGPIQSVELWuag996e9nnLL7DYwuJdOzhqaqLjhAetbJdf8inVVQkkLKIIHCrXwJcw1SEphwNR9dnG8As5R4neZ4D8PA1q3KxRR1IJ5_FAG4oXGZP1-vSaY7LByX-PzR9UHjBAy52k_C8evBau765Nkh_WTJR=w485-h389" width="485" /></a></div></div><div><b style="font-family: helvetica;">That's my sissy husband in this photo -- the pretty blonde "lady" in the sexy gold dress. His real name is Martin, but he is living only as "Tina" this week while we are on vacation. And as you can see, Tina landed a handsome new vacation boyfriend too! His name is Darren.</b></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>My Tina is very, very good at passing as a woman. He works hard at keeping his body slender through a strict diet and body-sculpting exercises. He keeps his hair long all the time, but dyed it and had it styled especially for this trip.</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgEuezRO0dpVNuassgo9fxTfUnfvxNHl2tgtqt-sGL8zTLq1EWvSUnAZqUc54WswLW4EB9bdWKp-C9rtBTCqrMqfcIK5qM2Dt_yCLu7dGAnP4iDTydC7J3SZg6_OtxsSZiOzmb8ltnJVZZP29uDBRZ3ye6A8dI-3mKeDhu-NmPu1Dr4EUKJkoiYpjBC=s450" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="450" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgEuezRO0dpVNuassgo9fxTfUnfvxNHl2tgtqt-sGL8zTLq1EWvSUnAZqUc54WswLW4EB9bdWKp-C9rtBTCqrMqfcIK5qM2Dt_yCLu7dGAnP4iDTydC7J3SZg6_OtxsSZiOzmb8ltnJVZZP29uDBRZ3ye6A8dI-3mKeDhu-NmPu1Dr4EUKJkoiYpjBC=w436-h330" width="436" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Don't you think they make a cute couple? Darren is everything that my Martin/Tina isn't. He's strong, confident and decisive. A real Alpha male! I love seeing Tina with Darren. It seems like Tina doesn't have a single idea of his own when he's with his hunky new boyfriend -- Tina seems only capable of agreeing with whatever Darren says and whatever Darren wants to do.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>I love seeing how Tina behaves when he's with a real man! That's why I planned this vacation to a singles resort. Although we have been out together as two women many times before -- to restaurants and bars and so on -- we had never taken a week-long vacation like this before. For Tina -- and for me -- it is a wild, new experience!</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhJ_HlL1LJqp6mEJEeQe6o9stFupS1_rqzCqE4iB0PwSTZjQAaxzq-8B09QyRFgnKF0cTap48GLjNQHTPKNjQhOcgY8k4PPPdV_XQSEjaasX5EOK3f1g32utYY-pia2b26DQ-Q5o4cvWHUYGPLwky38QXQDeCsY5frLVAF1OuCmNH6GjYpaDyPkm2f=s389" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="348" data-original-width="389" height="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhJ_HlL1LJqp6mEJEeQe6o9stFupS1_rqzCqE4iB0PwSTZjQAaxzq-8B09QyRFgnKF0cTap48GLjNQHTPKNjQhOcgY8k4PPPdV_XQSEjaasX5EOK3f1g32utYY-pia2b26DQ-Q5o4cvWHUYGPLwky38QXQDeCsY5frLVAF1OuCmNH6GjYpaDyPkm2f=w428-h383" width="428" /></a><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>I know my sissy husband enjoys his time as Tina. I know that his need to express him feminine side is far too powerful for him to resist. And being in the arms of a strong, masculine man is so exciting for him, throwing his feminine feelings into overdrive. But tricking a man to believe that you are a real woman when you are not is playing with fire! And Tina knows this. Each moment he spends with an unsuspecting man fills Tina with equal parts excitement -- and fear that his secret will be revealed.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Tina and Darren have been an item for three days now -- and we have three days left in our vacation. Can Tina keep up the act for the rest of our vacation without letting Darren find out the truth? I certainly hope so. I expect that Darren would be furious beyond belief if he learned that the woman he was falling for was really a man.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJ3XRLy9X-BVw8Wk4ELTmBNfmIUH_pM_V5AmVL4u2yKoB7AOQYCkdkroPR2WM8DwZkin_AgRH_yd7E0MwjzFDU9XqTkrVU1n4KKQVMt831yx6LqR_SjZVfMDfMR4BH2KPqS6xr31u9xvjrzNphiF9nyTXUZlbBayzI-Rg8HV7iD_jeUmKtN3xcqFkY=s440" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="365" data-original-width="440" height="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhJ3XRLy9X-BVw8Wk4ELTmBNfmIUH_pM_V5AmVL4u2yKoB7AOQYCkdkroPR2WM8DwZkin_AgRH_yd7E0MwjzFDU9XqTkrVU1n4KKQVMt831yx6LqR_SjZVfMDfMR4BH2KPqS6xr31u9xvjrzNphiF9nyTXUZlbBayzI-Rg8HV7iD_jeUmKtN3xcqFkY=w429-h354" width="429" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>So how does Tina manage to keep his secret? Well, the first night was easy -- just some flirting and a little pawing at the resort bar, with a brief good night kiss at the end of the evening. By day 2, things were heating up, with some heavy making out during the day and a hand job in Darren's room at the end of the evening. (His cock is enormous, Tina reports!) </b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Today is day 3 of their steamy relationship. I caught Tina and Darren making out like crazy earlier today -- including in the swimming pool! Now we are all dressed up for a double date together. First we'll have some Happy Hour cocktails, then a romantic, candlelit dinner together, followed by dancing at the outdoor bar until late. It's what happens after that that has Tina very nervous.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>"You better hope he likes blow jobs!" I told Tina. "And I hope you are really good at giving them. Because he is going to expect to get some serious action from you. And since he can't fuck you, you better find some other way to keep him interested." Tina has practiced giving blow jobs on the strap-on dildo I sometimes use on Tina's backside. But Tina has never had a real cock in his mouth -- or down his throat.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b> </b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Of course, I've been fucking my new vacation boyfriend every chance I get this week. We run off to his room a couple of times during the day and of course in the evening. He is amazing in bed! And I always give Tina a detailed report on my sexual encounters with Jerry.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>I really hope that Tina -- and his pretty mouth -- can keep Darren satisfied and unaware of the truth. They make such a cute couple and Darren really seems rather smitten by Tina. And I can tell Tina is really falling for Darren.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b>Keep your fingers crossed that Tina can really pull it off. With a little luck -- and a lot of sucking -- Tina just might come home with wonderful memories of his romantic vacation with Darren -- and a tummy full of Darren's hot, sticky cum!</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgEuezRO0dpVNuassgo9fxTfUnfvxNHl2tgtqt-sGL8zTLq1EWvSUnAZqUc54WswLW4EB9bdWKp-C9rtBTCqrMqfcIK5qM2Dt_yCLu7dGAnP4iDTydC7J3SZg6_OtxsSZiOzmb8ltnJVZZP29uDBRZ3ye6A8dI-3mKeDhu-NmPu1Dr4EUKJkoiYpjBC=s450" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><div style="color: #0000ee; text-align: left; text-decoration-line: underline;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUKuG-boJpIjRhAknzVkppzkeZ7B_u11_HnM_JGkzFHIk-VXW1dLitXKvnBRKGvyiu5dSyz3_V1gvUojhOseNNragikfXm2xKsZgsqRI7iod_WZ6QDyFeGODPvG3-nzDGRjRt_Ay6Hvwa96Xzp8bsrRxnOpFYdG5qVRcp0MiK7ogCAnBP1bn7GE5k7=s585" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="585" height="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUKuG-boJpIjRhAknzVkppzkeZ7B_u11_HnM_JGkzFHIk-VXW1dLitXKvnBRKGvyiu5dSyz3_V1gvUojhOseNNragikfXm2xKsZgsqRI7iod_WZ6QDyFeGODPvG3-nzDGRjRt_Ay6Hvwa96Xzp8bsrRxnOpFYdG5qVRcp0MiK7ogCAnBP1bn7GE5k7=w640-h354" width="640" /></a><br /></div><div style="color: #0000ee; text-align: left; text-decoration-line: underline;"><br /></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <p></p></div>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-50771051638073525932022-11-13T13:40:00.001-08:002022-12-12T07:43:04.188-08:00Mommy's Pajama Sissy -- Part 12 -- The Conclusion<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">It turns out that Jimmy told Tammy that, as Captain of the football team, he was expected to "share" his girlfriend with some of the other seniors who were on the team. This is what I overheard Tammy talking about on the phone. Well, I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but it seems like my sweet, innocent Tammy was going to listen to whatever Jimmy said -- and do whatever Jimmy asked.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The very next day, I heard that Jimmy and Tammy went to the beach -- along with Jimmy's teammate Marcus. Tammy didn't share any of the details of what happened at the beach but he seemed completely fine with whatever did happen. I guess Tammy enjoyed the extra attention of two boys instead of just one. </span></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BfQvk-vK5q5SJc7eTAa-NS__lgB2qzoXH3JC-GqIdVbAlNpKLx5Kq-xVHHOIozGisQ9cVHf9StSRI_noDPHvhRC4gIAUZZ4Krn_IdoKvZpHriSL04ms2W5n-9a9_7JDY9ZcY-J-70IV-CwmZaontTkN9opK2emIi9QM0smfczNbiXE1tFHtEoypB/s502/gettyimages-200344309-001-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="502" data-original-width="351" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BfQvk-vK5q5SJc7eTAa-NS__lgB2qzoXH3JC-GqIdVbAlNpKLx5Kq-xVHHOIozGisQ9cVHf9StSRI_noDPHvhRC4gIAUZZ4Krn_IdoKvZpHriSL04ms2W5n-9a9_7JDY9ZcY-J-70IV-CwmZaontTkN9opK2emIi9QM0smfczNbiXE1tFHtEoypB/w280-h400/gettyimages-200344309-001-612x612.jpg" width="280" /></a></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5C8LOjcy3TYwYPGcUCLEMWdgBvZQ-EyeKoBoG5xPcIFy0EQ8RU4axQIOQa7gdWZxQ5CsYC13l2sSX1lct6YnlrVbK86VQx7gBSkOViXpi7_DNxFOznJK0HlTiYj0TPw-mMUKx2ZiAXUmxAJhtJYMaikUI3U9siGLHBP6iuOSrgmtnGf-va7NokaUC/s510/gettyimages-200221553-001-612x612.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="510" data-original-width="383" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5C8LOjcy3TYwYPGcUCLEMWdgBvZQ-EyeKoBoG5xPcIFy0EQ8RU4axQIOQa7gdWZxQ5CsYC13l2sSX1lct6YnlrVbK86VQx7gBSkOViXpi7_DNxFOznJK0HlTiYj0TPw-mMUKx2ZiAXUmxAJhtJYMaikUI3U9siGLHBP6iuOSrgmtnGf-va7NokaUC/w300-h400/gettyimages-200221553-001-612x612.jpg" width="300" /></a><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I soon had the impression that Tammy's dates with Jimmy usually included one -- or more! -- of Jimmy's football buddies. I began to become concerned that Tammy was letting himself get caught up in something that wasn't very healthy for a young lady like Tammy. But as unhappy as I was that Tammy was being "shared" among the players on the football team, I soon learned that the situation was perhaps even much more worrisome than I knew.</span></p><p></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzX4R8w50461HPdmOi_pfkQbOZVilw8zrfy0G-ilWpUS67gjsaIbdz5uc5GvKP1k9nJsc5ORXK2SMyV5B76Vbh8uLJ6uPTkCG1mG_kjuhaQqxdGceZVnINXsujcDN08VgDwxVbFqPckYY48nrDNdU_w40XtMLgBo5C7sPgHMoglMUKvbFvpKY_kYWZ/s801/50212703_016_202e.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="708" data-original-width="801" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzX4R8w50461HPdmOi_pfkQbOZVilw8zrfy0G-ilWpUS67gjsaIbdz5uc5GvKP1k9nJsc5ORXK2SMyV5B76Vbh8uLJ6uPTkCG1mG_kjuhaQqxdGceZVnINXsujcDN08VgDwxVbFqPckYY48nrDNdU_w40XtMLgBo5C7sPgHMoglMUKvbFvpKY_kYWZ/s320/50212703_016_202e.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Tammy had been very open with me about his early experiences with Jimmy, but as the summer wore on, Tammy became much less willing to fill me in on the details of what he was doing. I started checking his phone when I could just to get an idea of what he was up to. So you can imagine my shock when I found these photos on his phone. Because that's not Jimmy that Tammy is kissing. That's Jimmy's Uncle Mike who owns the garage where Jimmy works! Mike is in his mid-40's and shouldn't be romancing an innocent teenager like my Tammy!</span><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX0CaukL-pz7JOW-P9ixUIudg0RraVdjXIiU8jAhUulFqEpeH7S_KCFnstoVpp6TzCmzgg99pEcr2E75tZdLMwP6SB091A888F_8_0PcxLmz_bpA_kslf6TkCgzHNtohYujFUH13dtdwQf0ND8WgyAVJmiuVuiZr11Cyiq_4IaEsQcbK_41_IpH4ly/s1199/50212703_007_37fd.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="1199" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX0CaukL-pz7JOW-P9ixUIudg0RraVdjXIiU8jAhUulFqEpeH7S_KCFnstoVpp6TzCmzgg99pEcr2E75tZdLMwP6SB091A888F_8_0PcxLmz_bpA_kslf6TkCgzHNtohYujFUH13dtdwQf0ND8WgyAVJmiuVuiZr11Cyiq_4IaEsQcbK_41_IpH4ly/w640-h326/50212703_007_37fd.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOnivGL4q2Dy66Z_Jn9N-Kb_wXMd4hNxZlayHcse2RiSH4rzT8Zca5gsIdstfvFVt5Ry-yZF_DjHhiItLkEH5oP4rR2E_z9uyhqn_5FE59pOkoucThIkeld-oB3kqMcEbri_DbZnYgs55VsHgXfLllbixLe3ATIwPfz1A100rjoMZhhj3OqwuyJf0/s846/06.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="846" data-original-width="799" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOnivGL4q2Dy66Z_Jn9N-Kb_wXMd4hNxZlayHcse2RiSH4rzT8Zca5gsIdstfvFVt5Ry-yZF_DjHhiItLkEH5oP4rR2E_z9uyhqn_5FE59pOkoucThIkeld-oB3kqMcEbri_DbZnYgs55VsHgXfLllbixLe3ATIwPfz1A100rjoMZhhj3OqwuyJf0/w378-h400/06.jpg" width="378" /></a></p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">And not only was Jimmy "sharing" Tammy with his Uncle Mike -- but apparently, Uncle Mike was "sharing" Tammy with his friends too! The photos on Tammy's phone weren't very clear so maybe I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking at. Maybe you can figure out what's really happening here...</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Oh dear! Perhaps this is all my fault! It was just so much fun when we started wearing cute pajamas and nightgowns together I could never have imagined that it would lead to this.</span></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxNhAiNQ5RKSnU4TwJqVX7WjTkhgN0kKqBh4Z8iuK-CdAONQCCsk6IE5CXc1yxGUkFvyYw8W0zyqoZe6Q4nG6UfG05GBxzWRoH2huIAB3G38GKY7zr1N49-XHj3hUtuwC4ChmQjsbRGfgFpDCAAM0HtCo0cO6b7962YMWAuTl12Bb9AYMmWI6Bb9I/s1200/94539427_003_6d7f.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxNhAiNQ5RKSnU4TwJqVX7WjTkhgN0kKqBh4Z8iuK-CdAONQCCsk6IE5CXc1yxGUkFvyYw8W0zyqoZe6Q4nG6UfG05GBxzWRoH2huIAB3G38GKY7zr1N49-XHj3hUtuwC4ChmQjsbRGfgFpDCAAM0HtCo0cO6b7962YMWAuTl12Bb9AYMmWI6Bb9I/w266-h400/94539427_003_6d7f.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBkODYn-8kW_PCxA6dwgJVXuFMAbLPd3-34wVJ-R_-awOr_8IJLJ7mcHbi0nvE4z2uzr4hChE-7EJrzzWyS3Ds9RvN3Se4r9lnqcIOcAw9qKen66RMimD5_pAhd9m7cqyyGYCIgKYdn06zK-4-5nXv5Dw9rGm2a8IS3nroH1tkqfKrgCxl9xKOkLZ6/s715/60ef73aacde50f8ed8bbbfca10bbc201.11.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="715" data-original-width="599" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBkODYn-8kW_PCxA6dwgJVXuFMAbLPd3-34wVJ-R_-awOr_8IJLJ7mcHbi0nvE4z2uzr4hChE-7EJrzzWyS3Ds9RvN3Se4r9lnqcIOcAw9qKen66RMimD5_pAhd9m7cqyyGYCIgKYdn06zK-4-5nXv5Dw9rGm2a8IS3nroH1tkqfKrgCxl9xKOkLZ6/w335-h400/60ef73aacde50f8ed8bbbfca10bbc201.11.jpg" width="335" /></a><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-79479612014156974402022-11-08T17:14:00.004-08:002022-11-08T17:14:41.304-08:00Mommy's Pajama Sissy -- Part 11 <p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">After the success of PJ Day -- and Tammy's "coming out" -- Tammy was on his way to having a very exciting summer. In fact, I don't think I can remember seeing "Tommy" all summer long.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">As the summer began, Tammy took a lot of interest in how he looked, asking me to take him to my salon every week so he could have his hair styled and colored in different ways. One week he'd ask for his hair to be straight and sleek and lightened; the next he'd want some curls back and a different shade of blonde. By now, Tammy's hair had really grown quite long so the stylist was able to make it look really great. And Tammy started wearing more make-up -- which he had really never done before. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFEmDypfp3gJT9VSpMXgR_SC6DEK6M26RKuUjitdpDGtMlsRi9jeEBsi237dYUU3DxrbJBYTfnAJKYAFtqYvq5YLiBUZJbIxwzhBeClpDrpeOrrnhOElwcfxkJjDnrA9mlNMjB93E4anZXpRtFwuzk_WfB9BnFYIo_WUIwQ7tDOCQEnVzIpcYmKSap/s855/11443785_003_349f.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="855" data-original-width="559" height="490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFEmDypfp3gJT9VSpMXgR_SC6DEK6M26RKuUjitdpDGtMlsRi9jeEBsi237dYUU3DxrbJBYTfnAJKYAFtqYvq5YLiBUZJbIxwzhBeClpDrpeOrrnhOElwcfxkJjDnrA9mlNMjB93E4anZXpRtFwuzk_WfB9BnFYIo_WUIwQ7tDOCQEnVzIpcYmKSap/w320-h490/11443785_003_349f.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">And then there were the clothes! I spent a fortune during the weeks after school ended to get Tammy all the different outfits he said he needed. Here are a couple of photos I took of Tammy after one of our trips to the mall. Doesn't he look adorable. You can see how he had his hair lightened. And look at his eye make-up. So pretty! And check out those sexy sandals -- I wouldn't even be able to walk in those!</span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh81GZ_kAIo5zixXFj1HanYOt5OHN708Xsz3frUwG3rEM-kY-3irL8wAjYUtXBYvegkvk3k2_SCDtmn35C_joymrWbycGZMiZfcTunUv6aWTT0DByhCXjZiOKt2wefxgvtyH4UlnZfcVC_Q-BlqPESZG9Aa0inWRmeDWHGsquMuzeWS8o8eFPABrxW/s861/11443785_001_0fc1.jpg" style="clear: right; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="861" data-original-width="573" height="469" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh81GZ_kAIo5zixXFj1HanYOt5OHN708Xsz3frUwG3rEM-kY-3irL8wAjYUtXBYvegkvk3k2_SCDtmn35C_joymrWbycGZMiZfcTunUv6aWTT0DByhCXjZiOKt2wefxgvtyH4UlnZfcVC_Q-BlqPESZG9Aa0inWRmeDWHGsquMuzeWS8o8eFPABrxW/w312-h469/11443785_001_0fc1.jpg" width="312" /></a><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Right from the start, Tammy's schedule that summer was busy! The girls from his class started including him in their trips to the mall and hanging out at each other's homes. Tammy would come home after spending time with the girls and tell me all about what they did -- and what they talked about -- which seemed to only BOYS, BOYS, BOYS! And Tammy got his share of teasing from the girls because of Jimmy. More on that in a minute!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0nzanSkvXOhsUbZOnbXpHIpQZA-EDac6jV0UitojWa5RLZSGwTOn7ttbXGQd5KDasOjHtvdwFzRpfOBU5lcEYvQ14VBZh8Drrt68hGQ314g0dKOrdgLgPnEnU8_rC8KbhUh19eNHnUVVL3ynq90Rxm1hmxIB2gltjg0OAcqU2RZyfNK2R8JYa1IoI/s397/depositphotos_160752396-stock-photo-waitress-holding-tray-with-drinks%20(2).jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="315" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0nzanSkvXOhsUbZOnbXpHIpQZA-EDac6jV0UitojWa5RLZSGwTOn7ttbXGQd5KDasOjHtvdwFzRpfOBU5lcEYvQ14VBZh8Drrt68hGQ314g0dKOrdgLgPnEnU8_rC8KbhUh19eNHnUVVL3ynq90Rxm1hmxIB2gltjg0OAcqU2RZyfNK2R8JYa1IoI/w285-h359/depositphotos_160752396-stock-photo-waitress-holding-tray-with-drinks%20(2).jpg" width="285" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">One of the girls even got Tammy a job waitressing during the busy lunch time shift at the local diner. I know this was hard work, but Tammy seemed to really enjoy it. And I was glad that he was working during the summer -- even if just for a few hours a day. Tammy looked so cute in the apron he wore when he was working. And every time I stopped by, Tammy was always getting a lot of extra attention (and some very good tips!) from the male customers. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjih4PXukxWeAC5Uyo69RRQd-_FYJcdSRG_QU9k4kPz4VcQKSow_0aAfYE7wYWimUMTC0GuXhZdigYJ11y5ecCLb1OSOG7F7AsfhEuVVhQSbpNKy19nzyciKS-uhU19VG99dMurEp_H8B0K64imE45ruBCib_dAsgDh8ldiaDJ2QIKtfEfEtS1ho7Uc/s462/depositphotos_160752448-stock-photo-waitress-bringing-order-to-client%20(2).jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="399" data-original-width="462" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjih4PXukxWeAC5Uyo69RRQd-_FYJcdSRG_QU9k4kPz4VcQKSow_0aAfYE7wYWimUMTC0GuXhZdigYJ11y5ecCLb1OSOG7F7AsfhEuVVhQSbpNKy19nzyciKS-uhU19VG99dMurEp_H8B0K64imE45ruBCib_dAsgDh8ldiaDJ2QIKtfEfEtS1ho7Uc/w336-h290/depositphotos_160752448-stock-photo-waitress-bringing-order-to-client%20(2).jpg" width="336" /></a><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Well, back to Jimmy. I had never dreamed that PJ Day would lead to Tammy catching the eye of the captain of the football team! It was clear from the beginning that Jimmy was completely smitten with my little Tammy! Some days, Tammy would get off work in the afternoon and go straight over to Jimmy's uncle's body shop and hang out there until Jimmy finished work. And Jimmy was always asking Tammy to go out with him in the evenings and on weekends. It all seemed innocent enough -- at least at first. Tammy was thrilled with all the attention he was getting from Jimmy and how all the other girls from school were amazed that Jimmy and Tammy were "an item." I had never seem Tammy so excited and happy as the times I saw him getting ready for a date with Jimmy. He would spend hours getting himself all dolled up to look his nicest for his new boyfriend. Sometimes he would try on dozens of outfits before settling on the one he would wear out with his new beau.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuSGPQ83D4363B0d5rBRB2xaIiEKsiUGZGMr20d_AoGIk82V9WbqDjziTHZ5f8pjiINm2XE_4kD2iew4Yd-17SUnq-dPN6Eh2W1uUzQMvNRfL95uE04MGB7FOcTMrgPZ7ozLXwBKdovcxeTtLZT-ObKAvmFF1S-F0w5fP6_9AXy6XvwBy5N5w3iUr4/s612/gettyimages-104186761-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="408" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuSGPQ83D4363B0d5rBRB2xaIiEKsiUGZGMr20d_AoGIk82V9WbqDjziTHZ5f8pjiINm2XE_4kD2iew4Yd-17SUnq-dPN6Eh2W1uUzQMvNRfL95uE04MGB7FOcTMrgPZ7ozLXwBKdovcxeTtLZT-ObKAvmFF1S-F0w5fP6_9AXy6XvwBy5N5w3iUr4/w300-h450/gettyimages-104186761-612x612.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">And Jimmy and Tammy did seem to have fun together. Here are a few photos Tammy showed me of their time at the fair. Just look how happy my little Tammy is. And doesn't he look sweet in that little sundress he's wearing? Jimmy certain seems to like what he sees!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTlVnhX8XH4N9snpyK_L-Zf91f3fqAQy0Gn512aS_vAX81yWAZqW9PY6xYNlf8codh8_qF__QCqW7a7xAQNpCOwfMwr6TxhtrgjIVo2tcaR9zsQrkV0R85jKWtU8t0iomo0wLMwL0proWMKVwRApQ5P4hCfDduS1i01-Ardn9RI830DGDllEL3gSS0/s612/gettyimages-104186823-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="612" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTlVnhX8XH4N9snpyK_L-Zf91f3fqAQy0Gn512aS_vAX81yWAZqW9PY6xYNlf8codh8_qF__QCqW7a7xAQNpCOwfMwr6TxhtrgjIVo2tcaR9zsQrkV0R85jKWtU8t0iomo0wLMwL0proWMKVwRApQ5P4hCfDduS1i01-Ardn9RI830DGDllEL3gSS0/s320/gettyimages-104186823-612x612.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoiDGo8ZdG4jfl-YkTD94fv14F4J_NGH1P03XGBN3P4-8lJYFkX7CEqgTkn-5UIi8xV0pBsuKQAnuqEeQy0Z9IZBGQjcVlRacNEnsDY2a_8HfUL1lAE00wpKDEZIftv07WUK6jl0iCVI1HyuJnt_NPkU5rZpJWolyMJQZKNAgy890VaJesHEebL_in/s612/gettyimages-104186817-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="408" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoiDGo8ZdG4jfl-YkTD94fv14F4J_NGH1P03XGBN3P4-8lJYFkX7CEqgTkn-5UIi8xV0pBsuKQAnuqEeQy0Z9IZBGQjcVlRacNEnsDY2a_8HfUL1lAE00wpKDEZIftv07WUK6jl0iCVI1HyuJnt_NPkU5rZpJWolyMJQZKNAgy890VaJesHEebL_in/w266-h400/gettyimages-104186817-612x612.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHHGI6ZQkbXgiKNh3NY6N-vEyhTBeVibyIfDx37d4rNxKkm8msgo7uQ-BtqOu4LdPRINeYlB3ucfQe8WTQNEOXhBlMqAY3xJibNQVBWOiU_dwA79Mitqmx8GVjvOTA0f7ZWnwLajk7B9TJm4IuHUox9vwPck77r6TjPH3YSDsMBspeDu_EzykW_qHl/s1000/1000_F_57518969_wO1R0ILlXFcA7u0EA7yvMMvmg5dh13mn.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="667" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHHGI6ZQkbXgiKNh3NY6N-vEyhTBeVibyIfDx37d4rNxKkm8msgo7uQ-BtqOu4LdPRINeYlB3ucfQe8WTQNEOXhBlMqAY3xJibNQVBWOiU_dwA79Mitqmx8GVjvOTA0f7ZWnwLajk7B9TJm4IuHUox9vwPck77r6TjPH3YSDsMBspeDu_EzykW_qHl/w406-h640/1000_F_57518969_wO1R0ILlXFcA7u0EA7yvMMvmg5dh13mn.jpg" width="406" /></a></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div>The two of them spent a LOT of time together as the summer began. There were dates to the movies and concerts, and trips into the city and lots of time on the beach. They really seemed to enjoy each other's company and seemed to be growing very close.</div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhby1uhQCWUZngxn6E0jIvEgsl7Q3Kj55pFCGIgu7ixPZhpZ63DzFPnkCD8EvS_oBplMRqkbfjeBLgnoBrAVSsqubr1mqr3PccM3y7sYRSgVaCVYNz9ARvo76937rihjGJ_nVFH0_ORLEQRmsozctqtEAhiE2sK3gllCrb1TLfstJWZE_-P2pNuHeA7/s610/gettyimages-579746832-612x612.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="610" data-original-width="278" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhby1uhQCWUZngxn6E0jIvEgsl7Q3Kj55pFCGIgu7ixPZhpZ63DzFPnkCD8EvS_oBplMRqkbfjeBLgnoBrAVSsqubr1mqr3PccM3y7sYRSgVaCVYNz9ARvo76937rihjGJ_nVFH0_ORLEQRmsozctqtEAhiE2sK3gllCrb1TLfstJWZE_-P2pNuHeA7/w292-h640/gettyimages-579746832-612x612.jpg" width="292" /></a></div><br /><br />I know that the two of them would sneak off to be...romantic...together every chance they got. My Tammy didn't even try very hard to hide it from me. In fact, he loved talking about how being with Jimmy made him feel, how he loved being held tightly in Jimmy's strong arms, how he loved it when Jimmy would kiss him really hard. But even if things seemed to be getting a little hot and heavy between them, I figured that they were just kids being kids and the experience of being together and exploring these romantic feelings wouldn't cause any harm. And Jimmy seemed like a nice enough boy. So I basically stayed out of it and let Tammy find his own way through this new terrain.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I was fine with all of it, really, until I overheard Tammy talking to one of his new girlfriends from school about something Jimmy called "sharing."<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQJszsU6cwP7SYR87T-MfVlhHUF1QFZIxGtxc1gLDMsjIF70MiLwJbwpE0BnmpEGqf4kfJbtBhF4CoRyZaagIyruOgsRA650c_e444GwaxG4drtv4ypja5ITzU2sNLqidYN5Mzgf5pVXiwJwByYEdhKWNIk5WxmQWGefHvbloNc-YvVBYLCwCERgJH/s612/gettyimages-579746578-612x612.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="612" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQJszsU6cwP7SYR87T-MfVlhHUF1QFZIxGtxc1gLDMsjIF70MiLwJbwpE0BnmpEGqf4kfJbtBhF4CoRyZaagIyruOgsRA650c_e444GwaxG4drtv4ypja5ITzU2sNLqidYN5Mzgf5pVXiwJwByYEdhKWNIk5WxmQWGefHvbloNc-YvVBYLCwCERgJH/w640-h640/gettyimages-579746578-612x612.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-55293814406048919112022-10-09T16:26:00.001-07:002022-10-09T16:26:47.389-07:00Mommy's Pajama Sissy -- Part 10 <p></p><p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pNIE3C6dCDs/USjynIdrf7I/AAAAAAAAA3o/5mCH7_4At3w/s1600/scEW-E523980_E583980-100-C-WhiteLongSet.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="543" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pNIE3C6dCDs/USjynIdrf7I/AAAAAAAAA3o/5mCH7_4At3w/w373-h543/scEW-E523980_E583980-100-C-WhiteLongSet.jpg" width="373" /></a></p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">When I picked Tammy up from school, he was all smiles. "Well, how did it go at school? How did people react to seeing you as Tammy -- and in a nightgown?"</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"It went great!" Tammy practically shouted. "Of course, when I first arrived, I got a lot of stares walking down the hall to homeroom. But mostly I think people were staring because they didn't know who I was -- or why someone was wearing such a fancy nightgown to PJ Day!"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Tammy continued. "When I first got to homeroom, people were shocked. I mean speechless. I thought it was hysterical! But after just a few minutes, a bunch of the girls -- the cool girls, the ones that never talk to me -- came over and started fussing all over me. They were saying how pretty I was, how jealous they were, and so on. It was totally fun!"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"It was sort of funny," Tammy continued, "That I was the one wearing the prettiest nightgown! Most of the other girls were wearing pajamas or flannel nightgowns -- like the ones we wear together in the winter. Nobody was wearing a fancy, pretty nightgown like me." I was relieved to hear this as I thought Tammy's selection of nightgown wasn't exactly appropriate and I thought it might cause a problem -- but apparently not.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Tammy continued, talking a mile a minute. "But of course, the boys noticed me too. A bunch of them just couldn't stop staring at me while I was chatting with the cool girls. And then a couple of brave ones came up to me. At first I was worried that they were going to give me a hard time or start calling me names. But that didn't happen. Instead Jimmy Michaels came up to me a said 'Wow, you really look amazing. I barely recognized you.'"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I was shocked to hear this because I was aware that Jimmy Michaels (who was captain of the football team, by the way) had never been nice to Tommy over the years, calling him names like "sissy" and "faggot" just because he didn't like to play sports and because he mostly kept to himself.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Well, after homeroom, we all went to the auditorium for the end of year presentation. The girls from my homeroom asked me to sit with them, and we were joined by the cool girls from the other homerooms. And everybody was super nice to me and made a big deal about how pretty I looked." Tammy was practically breathless from talking so fast.</span></p><p></p><p><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qipMAPEI6Jw/USjyriAUwFI/AAAAAAAAA3w/ap8iZIh58Eo/s1600/scEW-E523980-100-B-SLWhiteLongNG.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="726" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qipMAPEI6Jw/USjyriAUwFI/AAAAAAAAA3w/ap8iZIh58Eo/w372-h726/scEW-E523980-100-B-SLWhiteLongNG.jpg" width="372" /></span></a></p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Then after the presentations, we all went to the gym where they handed out yearbooks. And they had pizza and soda and everybody spent the rest of the day signing each others' yearbooks and chatting and eating. This time Jimmy Michaels came up and talked to me, even offering to get me some pizza and soda. He told me that he would working all summer at his uncle's car shop on North Street and he said that he hoped that we would get to hang out together over the summer..."</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"The whole day went by in a flash. Before I knew it, it was time to go home."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Well, young lady, you certainly had an exciting day!" I said. "You must be exhausted."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Oh, I guess. But I'm supposed to meet some of the other girls at the mall at 3:00. Can you drive me? And tonight, Jimmy invited me to go with him to end of year bonfire down by the lake -- can I go to that too?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Well, I don't see why not. If it's what you want to do," I said.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Tammy's life experienced a big change as a result of his wearing a pretty nightgown to PJ Day. That whole summer was a whirlwind of parties and days at the lake and afternoons at the mall and nights at the movies. Needless to say, I had to spend quite a bit of money on getting Tammy all the clothes that he needed now -- casual outfits and jeans and tank tops; swimsuits and cover-ups; party dresses; the works!</span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8320219262816502412.post-81312473943030364502022-07-31T12:41:00.000-07:002022-07-31T12:41:38.585-07:00Mommy's Pajama Sissy -- Part 9 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Tammy never shared with me all the details of his date with Steve. But it was very clear to me that Tammy had had an amazingly romantic and passionate evening.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">But now Steve was gone, having moved to New York, and I could tell My Little Princess missed him, even though they had only been together on one exciting date. But the last day of school was fast approaching and that was something good to look forward to.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">At Tommy's high school, they have a fun tradition where the graduating seniors -- of which Tommy was one -- come to school in their pajamas on the last day of school. Of course Tommy had never been one to get very involved in school activities. He never went to football games or pep rallies or things like that. So I wasn't sure if he would even want to participate in Senior PJ Day, as they call it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Well, he DID want to participate. And he wanted to participate in a very special way.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"Mother," he said to me. "I've been hiding all my girlish feelings from everyone for so long, always pretending to be someone that I'm not. Well, tomorrow is PJ Day -- and it's the last day of school forever. So I want to go to PJ Day as Tammy. The real me. In a nightgown. And if people don't like it, well fuck 'em!"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Tammy had never used language like that in front of me before. It showed how strongly he felt about what he wanted to do. So I gave him my full support.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Senior PJ Day arrived and we both got up extra early. We took extra time getting Tammy ready for "her" very first appearance at Tommy's high school. I warned Tammy that people would be shocked and that he would probably get some pretty strong reactions from people. But Tammy was determined.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">We hadn't discussed it before, so I asked Tammy, "So what exactly are you going to wear today. Which nightgown have you chosen?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pNIE3C6dCDs/USjynIdrf7I/AAAAAAAAA3o/5mCH7_4At3w/s1600/scEW-E523980_E583980-100-C-WhiteLongSet.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pNIE3C6dCDs/USjynIdrf7I/AAAAAAAAA3o/5mCH7_4At3w/w440-h640/scEW-E523980_E583980-100-C-WhiteLongSet.jpg" width="440" /></a><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Tammy replied. "I have a favor to ask. Can I borrow your white night gown and robe set?" </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">"You mean the one with the eyelet and lace trim? And the buttons down the front? I haven't worn that one in years. Well, I guess you can borrow it. But, it's a bit...grown up and...romantic to wear to school." </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"I understand. But it's what I want to do." And with that, I dug out the nightgown set from deep in my lingerie drawer. </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Tammy put it on and he looked absolutely stunning. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Ten minutes later I was driving him to school. His hair and make-up were perfect. He wore just a bit of perfume. As we pulled up to the front of the school, I asked one more time, "Are you sure you want to do this?" </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">"I've never been more sure of anything." And off he went to the entrance of the school.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">All morning I worried about My Little Princess being at school looking like a bride on her wedding night. I kept me cell phone with me in case I got a call and needed to rush to school. But no call ever came. At 1:00, I drove back to the school to pick up Tammy, as the last day always ended early.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"How did it go?!?!" I asked excitedly as Tammy climbed into the car.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"It was great!" Tammy said with a smile. And he proceeded to tell me all about his day. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
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<br />Linda Trainerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11359435990670942072noreply@blogger.com1