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My Secret Desire

my secret desire to dress as a womanHi, my name is Tommy and I’m 20 years old. I live in a very small village in New South Wales in Australia. Everybody knows everyone and mostly everyone knows about you, your job and your hobbies. So most of the time it is a difficult task to hide something. We used to meet up to watch the Super Bowl. Almost everyone in town was there, had a beer together and talked to each other. So I had to be careful not to spill the beans when I drank a little too much alcohol.

Since my time in kinder garden, I had a very good friend with whom I met almost every day during school. We went to football, soccer, and basketball games together. We learned a lot from each other, he was very good at math and I was good at drawing. We supported each other all the time.



In the year he graduated from high school, he started streaming on Twitch, just like me. We had a lot of fun playing Madden, FIFA and UFC. One day he came up to me and asked me if I could adjust and optimize his setup. For sure, I said.

So I started resetting his setup and programming some stuff. Meanwhile, his mother came into the streaming room and told him that they still have to go to their relatives today. Both of them had known me for a long time, they allowed me to stay alone in the house.

He was two years older than me and had two younger sisters who were both my age. I had often wondered if I could get together with one of them. Ever since I was about 13 years old, I’ve felt an inner desire to dress in women’s clothes. I especially like pantyhose, thongs and lace underwear.

No one was in the house and my cravings were really uncontrollable, but I was really scared of getting caught. I finished my programming work on his PC and didn’t go home at first. I finally saw my chance to wear women’s clothes for the first time. My heart was pounding like never before. I was so uncontrollable in my head and I didn‘t know what to do.



First I went to the toilet, it was the only place where I had internet to google something. On the way to the toilet I had to go through the washroom. A clothesline was up there, but nothing on it. I couldn’t find anything to wear anywhere even though it would have been the perfect opportunity.

From that day on, the desire just kept growing. I made a plan in my head for the best way to get hold of women’s clothing. So I wrote him that I had to come back tomorrow because I hadn’t finished the work on the computer yet. So I came back next day, but this time I had a precise plan of what I wanted to do.

All his relatives were in the house that day, so there was a lot of people that could see me. He was with his relatives almost all the time and I had his room and the washroom for myself. There was something on the clothesline this time that immediately caught my eye. A fresh washed pink cotton pantie from his mother.

So I grabbed the pantie and went to the toilet and put them on. Before I even had the panties on, my arous*l had reached a maximum. So I pulled it all the way up. I stood there, saw myself in panties for the first time and was completely in out of control. My heart was pounding, I heard it very loud.



Then I took it off and sat back down at the computer. Since that day I’ve done it every time I’ve been there. I wore panties and bras, unfortunately there weren’t any other options. Each time I could only wear cotton panties, although I would have liked to have worn more.

Then my friend moved away and I didn’t have a chance to put anything on anymore. I had to wait a long time for my next opportunity, it took 4 months until it was time again. I racked my brains, it was like an addiction that needed to be satisfied. I thought as much as I could about how to do it because I didn’t have the opportunity at home.

I have many relatives myself and a grandniece who is a model. I’ve always thought she was very hot even though she’s 11 years older than me. She always wore the latest fashion and always had great makeup.

One day she and her boyfriend were traveling and she gave me the key to the apartment. I should take care of the cats and plants. I did so. The third time I watered the plants, I noticed that every room was open. My heart was beating as fast as it did in my friend’s washroom. That’s what I was thinking at that moment too. I finished watering the plants and went into my grandniece’s dressing room.



It was early in the morning, so I had enough time. I opened the first drawer and pulled out a folder of model photos of her, she was really really hot. I saw many photos of her in dresses and hot lingerie. At that moment I realized that I wanted more than looking at the photos, I wanted to wear these dresses, this make-up and these underwear.

I put the agency folder back and opened the second drawer. Thongs, pantyhose and hot lingerie about 30 different pairs. So I pulled out the dark red lacy bra and matching pantyhose and thong. I felt so good. Now I could move around the apartment like this. I easily drew 10 of the most beautiful sets and took countless photos.

I went back the next day. This time I really wanted to wear one of the wedding dresses I saw a photo of in the portfolio. So I opened the closet and took out the most beautiful, most magnificent wedding dress. I took it off the hanger and found a matching silk underwear in my hands. On top of the drawer was a blond-brown long-haired wig. So I could fulfill my dream of being a bride one day.



When I get dressed, I get very arous*d by the silk underwear, and put on the wig. Then I sat down at her make-up table for the first time and applied eyeliner, lipstick and all the other stuff. I had watched makeup tutorials before and was surprisingly good. I really looked like a beautiful bride. I wanted to hide my thing, but as soon as I touched it a bit, the mess started.

I really had taken a lot of photos, but this experience was very special. Now I came into the apartment every day and wore something different each time. swimwear, and matching outfits. With the wig I always looked very good. During my grandniece’s 2-week vacation, I took about 1200 photos of myself.

Now the day came when she came back. To my amazement, only she came back. she had broken up with her boyfriend during the vacation. I happened to be with her when she came home from vacation, I wasn’t wearing any clothes or anything like that.

Even before I could greet her, she immediately confronted me with pictures and videos of me. I wondered where she got it from, but then I slowly got certain. She had cameras in the apartment. She was very angry. I went home without saying a word.

When I got home I received a message from her. You come to me tomorrow, we have to talk! So I went the next day. She said she overreacted yesterday and wanted to apologize.



At that moment she came into the room with a dress pantyhose and underwear. So that I forgive you for what you’ve done, you’re my French maid for the rest of your vacation week, she said. I could only agree because I had no other choice. This week has been very weird as now I was forced to do it. After the week was over, she said I had done my job well. I went home and never had contact to her anymore.

From there, I crossdressed slightly, but I didn’t do it as often or as intensely. Nonetheless, this is an experience I look back on fondly. I want to thank you for reading my story. Feel free to write a comment about it.

Submitted by Thomas Michael

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4 Comments

  1. i envy your story. sounds l[ke fun and desirable

  2. Your story is wonderful, wishes and dreams keep us alive, I am someone very old, many times I want to wear the clothes of my sisters, cousins and even my wife, the fact is that I am not feminine at all, my appearance is too masculine and I don’t I would match the outfit, then little by little my desire became Sexual, I adore transsexual girls, I have had sexual contact with some and I have played both roles, the truth is that I am not attracted to men, I adore the feminine part of them and I also love their bodies, forgive my answer, but you know what it’s like to live with a secret that burns your soul, and that you don’t dare to tell anyone, thanks for reading me.

  3. Great my name is Ilona. I’ve been wearing women’s clothes for a long time and I like being a woman. I wear pantyhose but I also like to wear a suspender belt. Greetings Ilona.

  4. My secret desire is not one, but multi-forms. It however turns all around one unique fetish, which is to become a prey, for either the best or for the worst. The fetish is adrenaline, regardless of the method or equipment.

    I love the fact of being vulnerable, to the point of been striped of all protection, of all safety net. The fact of being dressed-up as a woman is the surest manner to obtain that kind of kick. Some people get their ‘kick’ differently such as gambling or others unhealthy or dangerous occupations, but dressing-up is very healthy, and for many reasons, such as the incessant artful research of perfection in the character of the ‘girls’ choice.
    The girl, the woman, the femme must research being seductive to a man or to several men at all moments. Those males must want you as a female, regardless of the conditions, be them in the cosy bedroom, a cocktail party, an abandon ruin or even a biker’s bar. The game played is seduction, with all the power and trick the center of attraction may concentrate on ‘herself’. Without the intent of either mating with a brute of your own choice, or being cajoled by a wealthy dorlotine sugar-daddy, the game is blend without that, it is tasteless without those decisive intentions to seduce. This is my Secret Desire: it is being on the edge between win or lose. If you win, the reward is bliss, and if you lose, the accessories such as lace and lingerie, adorable polka-dot blouse-dress, painted nails and make-up becomes a tag for becoming the target of cruel ridicule and or raw meat at the mercy of a pack of animals. The high-heels, or the girly mules must be a part of the necessary rubrics in order to increase the vulnerability of the cross-dresser.
    I personally can’t think of more sure manner to get to dress-up as you girls in order to reach to the Secret Desire, which is no secret at all, to all men.
    This Desire of mine of seducing at all cost adapts according to the situations brings me to that edge. My only ‘defense weapon’ in that risky game is that very seduction that I have used. I cite an example, which may shock. I am thin bone Caucasian with blue eyes. Finding once myself living and working among colored men & women, I became conscientious that being white (knowingly recognized as beta-male if not as feminine-boy by that community) became an attribute. I had secret desires of being gang-banged by those negroes. Yes! dear sisters, I got wet at that though, which I prudently refrained.
    Well, in that same set, one day, I nearly got it good in those ‘Secret Desires’. It was a set-up (I already told the story on an other comment section) for a gang-rape. I found myself in the most precarious situation. Stuck with the impossibility of driving away, I was sharing a motel bedroom with a co-worker. He was, you guess right, a big black guy. I felt secure with him however. His girl-friend was known to me, while still never trying to associate with the ‘white sissy’. It is when I was taking a bath. While soaking, that I realized that my roommate was texting, and calling. By that moment, nude in my bathtub, I felt the knot in my guts. I got away through that precarious situation through that very same will to seduce, but it was a close call. This is how I did it. I played the ‘sweet little bitty Daisy’, that is draping with what I had on hand, that is a bath towel of the motel. I covered in a way as to make it an ‘adorable’ micro-mini. I was completely nude with the edge of my ‘desirable’ secret leaving not much to his imagination. While avoiding to look at him in the eyes, as a sign of sweet submission, I played the fragile ‘woman’. I did some prudent poses as to make him think that I could be his sweetheart, and not “his bitch as well as the bitch of the gang”, under the condition that he declares himself clearly to me. There were no words exchanged, while he was texting, as well as surely uploading my pictures of me totally at ‘their’ mercy entrapped in the motel room room of a giant truck-stop of Louisiana. He was wanking under his baggy pants to add-up to the critical situation.
    I went to bed, while tossing away the only ‘clothing’ I had, that is the wet towel, making him understand that he could have me totally for himself for a night of pleasure. I was ‘waiting’ for him. He did not say anything, and I know why: the gang was waiting outside. He left suddenly, and after few minutes, returned alone all suddenly, but I was feigning sleeping. I could not ‘sleep’ because my heart was beating fast, fast. I was dead scared. He even listen to my heartbeat by kneeling at the side of my bed. He must have known that I could not be sleeping with such a racing heartbeat. He stayed awhile, at looking down to my “cute white fem-boy face”. What was he thinking? He then lean again and gave me a soft kiss on the lips, and then left the room again towards the parking lot. Was he talking out-the gang to penetrate the room? Was he becoming my ‘bodyguard’ preserving my chastity from the gang-rape? Did I ‘seduce’ in making him think that he could have me all by myself? In all case he returned alone “without the gang and likely their women who did not care for the white sissy”. I could have been hurt. It was a matter of basic preservation instinct.
    He did not go in his bed all night, but remained on the arm-chair where I had seen him texting, sending pictures and wanking. I confess that I wish I had made love to him. My fair sin dressing my thin-bone body been ravished by that massive black man and my secret delicate inside been penetrated by the big thing I had glanced from under his baggy pair of pants became a ‘Secret Desire’, but I did not let that happen. I truly had been very scared. It was a close call, and I honestly should have been deserving that almost certain damage and tearing’s and pains on my body of cute ‘girl’, besides the humiliations of being posted on the internet by the real girls of the gang.
    This one secret desire which did not fulfilled. The next morning my roommate, semi-seriously offered one of his clean tee-shirt, since my unique clothing was still damp, “as a mini shirt before going through the truck-stop parking lot”.
    I left the region a few days later. I hear that my roomate went in a fight with others after my departure. Truly, I was naughty at that time at ‘seducing whatever the situation’

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