Smooth Legs

For my recent trip, I needed hairy legs.

My Mistress kindly gave me permission to let the hair grow out, so I didn't do anything to stop the hair growing throughout the month of August. This left me with about half an inch of hair, fairly thick all over my legs. I won't show you a photo, it's not a pretty sight. These legs, however, are very pretty:

Now I hated letting the hair grow. It really isn't very long since I first got rid of all the hair on my legs; in fact I only enjoyed a couple of weeks of hairlessness before it was time to grow it all back again, but from the moment I first tried it I was hooked.

I don't know if you've ever shaved your legs. If you haven't, then you really must; the experience is amazing. It's electric, the sensation of smoothness on the skin, and then when you start to dress...

Every sensation is magnified. The hair on your legs has shielded you from contact with the world for years, and now every movement of fabric against skin is intense, is erotic. I never thought I'd see the day, but shaving your legs makes trousers sexy.

Not as sexy as stockings though. That's a whole other level.

 

  

Now I'm not quite finished yet. There's a lot of hair to remove, and it'll take two goes to get it all gone, but when I'm done, I'll post again.

Striptease part 2

I didn't leave the club straight away after my first dance. Instead I  hung around to finish my beer, and after a  few minutes I was approached by another dancer.

This was Karen. That was her stage name, because she was Czech and apparently I wouldn't be able to pronounce her real name. Again we chatted for a bit, while Karen ran her hands over my thigh and across my shoulders. I could feel the muscles twitching in my shoulders as she moved her hand over where the strap lay, but she didn't react.

She asked me if I would like a private dance, and again I accepted, finding myself led to a different corner for a different dance. Karen was all in white: white dress, white heels, white panties and white garter. In a minute or two all but the shoes where gone and she was gyrating on top of me.

Karen's dancing style was different to Melissa's. Melissa spent a lot of time leaning back, displaying herself, letting me see all of her. Karen, on the other hand, came in close, one leg up on the arm of my chair, moving her body within centimetres of my face, small details in sharp relief.

It's an odd power dynamic, a lap dance. Because the man (or sissy) just sits there, it feels at first like they're the one in control. They're paying the piper, they're calling the tune, all that cliche. But really it's the dancer who is in control. They choose what to show and how, they direct the watcher with their movements. A good enough dancer has complete control over the man, because all he can do is sit there and be controlled.

That's why I couldn't do anything when Karen dropped to her haunches in front of me, facing away from me, throwing her head back and letting it slide down my chest as she sank to her knees.

My heart stopped. I felt the front of the bra, whith its lace, pretty white bow and hard wire, press into my chest. Of course, it was right up against my skin, while Karen would have to feel it through a shirt and the hair on the back of her head, but I couldn't believe that...

She didn't react, she just kept dancing. Did she know? I couldn't tell, and I still can't. She finished the dance in any case, and after that I left the club. After I left, did she talk to Melissa? Did they swap stories about the man who wasn't a man, wearing his bra while they danced for him, wishing he was them? Would that be funny? Sexy? Just plain odd? I have no way of knowing.

I am such a sissy slut, and maybe someone else knows that now.

XX

Striptease part 1

A couple of weeks ago, my Mistress described a scenario to me. She told me that I would visit a strip club, to watch the girls performing and ask for a private dance. I would be wearing masculine clothes, but with a bra and panties on underneath, just waiting to be discovered. She told me that I would be discovered, that the stripper notice the shape of my bra under my shirt, and so I would be revealed tothis beautiful goddess as the panty wearing sissy slut I am.

Doesn't that sound hot?

And then last week my Mistress told me actually go out and do it.

And doesn't that sound scary?

That's how I found myself in a stylish little strip club on Friday evening, still dressed in my suit from work but also wearing my sexy white panties with black dots and a black lacy trim and a white c-cup bra. There wasn't anything in the cups of the bra, but the line of them was still obvious to me under my shirt. I couldn't bring myself to believe that no one else would notice. But I had a task to do, and I had to complete it for my Mistress.

The first dancer to approach me was called Melissa. She was tall, almost as tall as me, blonde and tanned and dressed in a red cocktail dress. She also had clear five inch heels, like Cinderella's glass slippers except that Cinderella wouldn't have had a slit running up the side of her dress to her thigh. Very teasing, very provocative.

Melissa sat with me and we chatted for a while. It was the kind conversation you have with a hairdresser; so what do you do? do you work around here? any holiday plans? how did you hear of the club? All very straightforward and relaxing. That's relaxing except for my bra and panties, and the woman spinning upside-down on a pole three meters to my right, obviously. Those bits where distracting.

It is amazing, the athleticism in pole dancing. The sight is amazing in all sorts of ways, but oddly that was the thing that struck me first. Then I noticed how sexy the dancer was. Then I noticed how envious of her I was.

Melissa asked me if I'd been to a strip club before. I answered, truthfully, that no, I hadn't, so she explained that she could give me a private dance if I wanted. Did I want her to dance for me? Of course I did, and as my Mistress had told me to do, I agreed to the private dance.

She led me over to a corner of the club, set aside for private dances, sat me in a chair, stood between my legs, and began to dance. She moved her hips hypnotically, shrugging the red dress free to reveal her matching red panties and perfect pert breasts. She sank to her knees between my legs, running the line of her body against me, and settled back onto the floor to kick off her panties and show me every shaven inch of her. I didn't just want her, I wanted to be her.

Throughout her dance she kept leaning in close to me, bringing her body to touch me, and I kept thinking that this was it, she was about to feel the bra straps, the underwire, something that would give me away as a sissy. It's the only time I can remember wishing for a smaller cup-size. But she never touched my chest, and she finished her dance without discovering my secret.

Have you ever found that it can be as sexy watching a woman dress as undress? I do. I don't know if that's because of the way I am, or if it's that way for everyone, but watching Melissa shrug back into her sheer dress was just as sexy as watching her shrug it off before. I thanked her, paid her, and went back to finish my beer, my own panties still soft against my skin.

Sparkly

I repainted my toenails this morning. I wanted to do it because the varnish was starting to wear, but I also needed to do it because my Mistress had set me a task.

So I used nail varnish remover and cotton buds to clean my nails, careful to get rid of all the old colour. Then I applied a base coat of clear varnish to help strengthen the nails. Then the pink varnish.

 

 I love pink, it's so girly.

After the first coat of varnish had dried, I added a second to make the colour as smooth as possible. Then it was time to complete the task my Mistress had set me. My toenails aren't just pink anymore, now they're sparkly too, all covered in glitter.

(Click the image to see!)

Aren't they pretty?

Toenails

The first task that my Mistress set me was to paint my toenails. I painted them a deep red, and I've kept them painted ever since, changing the colour to pink, lighter pink, and then back to red again. It's fun to have a secret, and all day every day I talk to people and none of them know the colour of my toenails.

 Scarlet.

I am

My name is Chloe.

I used to be a man, but I'm not any more.

Now I'm a sissy, and my Mistress has told me to start this blog.

And now I'm a slut, with my pretty red toes and my pretty pink panties.

 And I couldn't be happier.

First post

It's difficult to believe, but it's only been a month.
One month since I first spoke to my Mistress, and a lot has changed. I've changed. I've become more like myself, I think.
I wasn't Chloe then, but I might be Chloe now.