I've discussed this before, the difference. I'm a little of both.
As a crossdresser, there are times, many times, when I want to look pretty, look feminine, feel my best, as a woman. I want to look pretty and feminine because I want to. It is not about sex in any way, it is about the part of me that is a woman, asserting herself.
As a sissy, there are times when I want to be forced to be a woman, when I want the part of me that is man taken away.
I think of this because of what happened this morning. As I've said, I usually wear panties, a garter belt, stockings, and often a camisole under my suit. Not because I want to be a sissy, but the feminine part of me wants to be a pretty woman during the day.
Well, this morning I was running a few minutes late and knew I had to walk to a meeting later, so, getting dressed, I put on my panties and reached for my suit pants.
"Not wearing stockings, today," the g/f asked, walking into the bedroom from the closet.
"Um, no, I'm late, I've got a thing, I just wasn't in a girlie mood," I answered. Hey, even genetic women dont' feel like glamming up every day, right?
"I like it when you wear stockings, sweetie, you know," she said.
"I know, hon, I'll wear something pretty tomorrow," I promised.
She got the faintest smile on her face. "I like it when you wear stockings...sissy."
I froze, one foot in a pant leg, froze, gulped. "Meredith," I said slightly exasperated.
"What," she tilted her head, "what is it...sissy?"
"Meredith," I said again. She knew exactly what she was doing. Maybe the crossdresser didn't feel like dressing this morning. But the sissy would, when pushed.
Meredith chuckled. "No, no, you go ahead and finish getting dressed, sissy."
"Mer, I'm going to be late," I begged, though I don't know why, as she'd not told me to do anything.
"Of course, sissy, of course. Pretend to be a man, today, it's okay, sissy."
That was enough. I sighed, took my pants and panties off, went to my drawer, took out a garter belt, stockings, put them on while she stood there brushing her hair, watching.
"Much better, sissy, much better. No use pretending you're a man, is there."
And thus, I finished getting dressed, putting my suit on over this garter belt and these stockings. I suspect this issue is not done, that something else is rattling around in her brain, that I'll be called a sissy again, later tonight.
As a crossdresser, there are times, many times, when I want to look pretty, look feminine, feel my best, as a woman. I want to look pretty and feminine because I want to. It is not about sex in any way, it is about the part of me that is a woman, asserting herself.
As a sissy, there are times when I want to be forced to be a woman, when I want the part of me that is man taken away.
I think of this because of what happened this morning. As I've said, I usually wear panties, a garter belt, stockings, and often a camisole under my suit. Not because I want to be a sissy, but the feminine part of me wants to be a pretty woman during the day.
Well, this morning I was running a few minutes late and knew I had to walk to a meeting later, so, getting dressed, I put on my panties and reached for my suit pants.
"Not wearing stockings, today," the g/f asked, walking into the bedroom from the closet.
"Um, no, I'm late, I've got a thing, I just wasn't in a girlie mood," I answered. Hey, even genetic women dont' feel like glamming up every day, right?
"I like it when you wear stockings, sweetie, you know," she said.
"I know, hon, I'll wear something pretty tomorrow," I promised.
She got the faintest smile on her face. "I like it when you wear stockings...sissy."
I froze, one foot in a pant leg, froze, gulped. "Meredith," I said slightly exasperated.
"What," she tilted her head, "what is it...sissy?"
"Meredith," I said again. She knew exactly what she was doing. Maybe the crossdresser didn't feel like dressing this morning. But the sissy would, when pushed.
Meredith chuckled. "No, no, you go ahead and finish getting dressed, sissy."
"Mer, I'm going to be late," I begged, though I don't know why, as she'd not told me to do anything.
"Of course, sissy, of course. Pretend to be a man, today, it's okay, sissy."
That was enough. I sighed, took my pants and panties off, went to my drawer, took out a garter belt, stockings, put them on while she stood there brushing her hair, watching.
"Much better, sissy, much better. No use pretending you're a man, is there."
And thus, I finished getting dressed, putting my suit on over this garter belt and these stockings. I suspect this issue is not done, that something else is rattling around in her brain, that I'll be called a sissy again, later tonight.
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