Tuesday, December 20, 2011

WANT TO BE AN AIR HOSTESS? WHAT ABOUT A MODEL?

I saw this article in a local paper here and naturally, I thought... one for the gurls!

And then in the same week I came across Andrej Pejic, the model of the moment. Androgynous, beautiful, and one can't quite seem to take one's eyes off Andrej.  Obviously, there are many with this same complaint.  He is making a killing out there.  I have included two videos.  Inspiring, to say the least.

Here advertising the Hema Bra.  No cleavage?  Not a problem...   if you are wearing a Hema Push Up Bra!








MODELS UNCENSORED: Andrej Pejic in "Norman Jean" from Milk Made on Vimeo.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Thanks For Giving...

Ah, Thanksgiving is upon us, and although I didn't grow up with this holiday, I nevertheless, get into the spirit of thanking all the boys and gurls for giving to Me.

This year is actually going to be different, meal wise.  No turkey on my table.  just loads of sides.  After several years of only eat poultry, I've gone the whole way and am now a vegetarian.  There's just a nice warm feeling when I look into the eyes of a cow, a pig, a sheep, and now a chicken, a turkey, a duck--knowing I can say... "yeah, I'm not going to eat you."  It's okay.  Relax.  This is not going to be a lecture.  Don't you just hate those svelte vegans who just walk around like their shit don't smell.  (Ooops, it... probably doesn't!)  Anyways...

Picture the day...
Fussing around in the kitchen, dressed in pretty pink panties, heels, and a little lace apron, tottering back and forth, checking the veggies, making sure the stuffing is fluffed. A pie is warming in the oven, the little pink iced cupcakes and the strawberry and lemon curd tarts on the desert platters.  The table is set, the port in the decanter, the wine nicely chilled, a fire blazing in the hearth, a wind blowing outside, and the sounds of happy lively turkeys gobbling in the field beyond.  A Jersey cow makes her way up from the pasture to the kitchen window and looks in with wide innocent eyes, a scurry of little pink piglets dance in and around her legs.  The sound of Geese in the distance as they fly safely overhead and into the clouds.  Oh what a perfect day it is...  for there is Mistress, reading a book by the fireside.  Her legs beautifully displayed in silky sheer nylons and her favorite black pumps.  Red skirt, slightly raised on the upper thighs, as she reclines on the Laura Ashley sofa, pillow at the back of her head, hair falling over the pillow.  She looks so perfect, so very relaxed, knowing all will be ready for her guests. 

The door bell rings and guests arrive bundled up warm, coats and hats taken, respective gloves put in pockets. Boots and shoes taken to be cleaned of the dirt, polished and given back, one by one.  Laughter comes from the sitting room, Mistress sounds so happy. Checking, checking, waiting for the signal.  The look is there...

Dinner is served, Ma'dam.

Mistress saunters over to the dining room table, the glow on her cheeks still there from the warmth of the fire. In come the others, friends that pale beside her, yet must be treated with equal respect.

The food is served.  Everyone so complimentary regarding the meal.  Drinks and  a toast given in praise of the hostess and the meal "to Mistress Beverly and the ...."  a sudden awkward silence, and Mistress steps in and finishes the sentence "my sissy".  I am so proud.  The cupcakes, tarts and pie brought in. More compliments, more laughter.  Oh, such a lovely day.

Time to clean everything away.  Kitchen must be spotless before taking time to eat something.  At the kitchen table, finally some food sampled and one would have to agree, the sissy did a good job.  Everything nice and tidy, spic and span.

People beginning to say their goodbyes.  Get the coats, wait by the door.  Help where necessary.  Last out the door and Mistress can rest. 

A nice foot massage for Mistress' feet, and then just falling... into the stool position, feet rubbing against pantied bottom as she goes back to reading her book.  The fire is beginning to slow but a shake of that beautiful mane signals to remain still and let embers burn out. 

Mistress moves to retire upstairs, quick to follow, pulling back the sheets, laying out the satin nightdress, running the bath water, lighting the candles in the bathroom...  hand mittens on, soap in hand, carefully gliding over the warm silky skin, arms and shoulders, legs and feet, bosom and back.  Towel between open hands, ready to mantle the perfect form.  Back to the bedroom, pillows fluffed, satin nightie ready to drape and fall....

Kisses on each toe, kisses soft and delicate to the soles, watching for a signal, a sign, a release of some sort.  Dismissive, distant, probably tired from her very full day.  Nothing more required.  Backing out of the room respectfully.  So thankful the day was good for Mistress, so thankful for her blowing me a kiss as I shut the door quietly.

The end.

You know, one of those...what if, or wouldn't it be nice, moments.  HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL.

Signing out,
Ms. London.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Where were you on Halloween?

As for me, I spent part of the evening listening to a musician serenade me with his repertoire of songs.  I had already celebrated earlier last month at Universal Halloween Horror Nights.  Now, that was a treat!  Universal, like Disney, knows how to put on a show.  The thing about theme parks is you have to go VIP to enjoy passing the line of ordinary people, and jumping right to the top.  I love those moments when you feel you are on the better side of unfair world.  I can be such a little snob at times.

Anyway, dear mortals, where were you come Halloween?  It's the one night when you can dress yourself up, put on make-up, panties, dress, heels, wig, etc. and... get applauded for your get-up!  I think every little sissy boy (cross dressers, especially) should be out somewhere all dolled up, making it his night to be the belle of the ball.  I mean, if humiliation is your thing, you could really get laughed at, and if being femme is your thing you could be admired for the absolute transformation.  And, here's the best part, the next day no one is going to accuse you of being anything but a man with balls!   Yeah.

So, I just took some photos off the internet because  I'm too late to inspire you this year, but maybe for next year...













 Low on the 'ball' factor, you can always dress up with ruffles or a skirt.
Ruffled shirt, tight pants--what's not to like

Aye, I'm no lassie, but I do love me little plaid skirt
Well, this post is short and sweet (like candy).  The next one will be much more tricky (promise).

Ms. London.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Winning on a Prayer

I love it when I win...  Winning in this case is: he came back!
So perhaps you can remember the posting where I said one sissy on saying farewell to me, said he would pray for me? Panties Post June 4th. Well, I guess he just didn't pray hard enough (no pun intended) because just the other day, just over one month since we spoke, I received an instant message from him.
"I feel so weak." was his hello.

The very abridged version of our chat went like this (name changed to protect anonymity):

sissyX: i feel so weak
sissyX: please
Ms. London: you want those shoes don't you
sissyX: yes
sissyX: please
sissyX: i feel so weak
Ms. London: and should I now pray for you?
sissyX: pray?
Ms. London: well, those were your parting words to me, which i thought rather funny
sissyX: i have never felt so weak before
sissyX: this is so humiliating
Ms. London: that's because you've missed this, haven't you?
sissyX: if i admit it now, you know so much about me
Ms. London: well, come on.. admit it
Ms. London: if you admit you have missed this... ill put the shoes on you
Ms. London: are you ready to admit?
Ms. London: come on, it wont hurt
sissyX: i feel so silly
Ms. London: yes, but its ok with me to feel silly
Ms. London: look, im just asking you to admit that you missed the way you feel with me
sissyX: i missed it ... it almost hurt
Ms. London: well, now its ok ,'cause back here you are, aren't you
Ms. London: and i sort of knew you would be
sissyX: did you?
Ms. London: yes
Ms. London: in fact i wrote about it
sissyX: and what did you say?
Ms. London: well, i didn't put your full name
Ms. London: hold on.. ill copy and paste the part about you, yes
sissyX: where did you wrote?
Ms. London: on one of my blogs
sissyX: can i see it?
Ms. London: you want to see the whole blog
sissyX: the part about me
Ms. London: The next comment I received was 'Beverly, I'm going to pray for you'. That was after he said I abused and exploited him. I laughed at that, as it was a first. I mean the praying comment. I took umbrage at the abuse and exploit comment because as I had said to him before, I only reflect what is already there. We have spoken for years and I was actually trying to be nice, gradually programming him to open up to his feminine side. His resentment was more aimed at himself, angry that he was weak and he wanted to hit out. I think he has said goodbye to me more than half a dozen times and each time comes back on his own volition. But this time he said he was sad and I didn't like to hear that, so maybe he's gone for good. There again, there's just as much chance that he will be back. He had many demons to deal with. I'll....... pray for him!
Ms. London: thats what i wrote
sissyX: this is all so humiliating
Ms. London: well, it is true though isn't it
sissyX: yes
Ms. London: yes
Ms. London: so imagine how happy i will be to write on my blog... he came back!
sissyX: will you?
sissyX: to prove how weak and helpless i am
Ms. London: yes
sissyX: ill obey
Ms. London: yes, you will
Ms. London: because you really have missed me
Ms. London: and you know what... i bet you have missed me more than you prayed for me
sissyX: youve won
sissyX: i give up
Ms. London: thank you
Ms. London: ok.. shall we put on some pink shoes
sissyX: heels
Ms. London: yes, heels
sissyX: i react so strong on that
Ms. London: high stilettos are so sexy aren't they
Ms. London: i bet you look at women in heels too don't you
sissyX: yes, of course
Ms. London: yes.. and sometimes are you envious that they can walk in heels so sexy and so naturally?
sissyX: i just wish, they would put them on me
sissyX: yes, i would struggle a bit, when they put them on, but when they are on ,all my power leaves
Ms. London: oh we should go shoe shopping together
Ms. London: you see, i would make you buy the ones you like the most
Ms. London: then i would quietly whisper to the shop assistant i need them in a bigger size
sissyX: yes
Ms. London: yes... have you fooled
Ms. London: then i would invite you back to my hotel and say i want to change in to shoes that you bought
Ms. London: cause I'm so thrilled with them
Ms. London: then when i get them out the box ... oh, these look a bit big.... the girl must have made a mistake....
Ms. London: why,they are so big, i bet they'd fit you!
Ms. London: no really, I'm sure...
Ms. London: just put one on and see
Ms. London: see, if I'm right
Ms. London: let me help you
Ms. London: stop wiggling around
Ms. London: I'm just proving a point that they are too big
Ms. London: let me tie it up
Ms. London: hmmmm... that one seems to fit
Ms. London: lets just try the other foot
Ms. London: ok?
Ms. London: and then ill let you take them off
Ms. London: and ill return them
Ms. London: are you nodding your head?
sissyX: yes
Ms. London: ok.. ill just slip the other shoe on
Ms. London: tie it up
Ms. London: they look like they fit perfectly
Ms. London: see... i won... told you they would fit you
Ms. London: now stand up
Ms. London: and let me look
Ms. London: you have a glazed look in your eyes
Ms. London: so i think you need to keep them on. i cant return them now they've been worn
Ms. London: and they are too big for me
Ms. London: so i guess they are now yours
Ms. London: say thank you
sissyX: thank you
Ms. London: that's nice
Ms. London: i think the shoes make you nicer
Ms. London: in fact, you must keep them on now
Ms. London: i feel safer with you in shoes
Ms. London: you see, if i was with a man alone in a hotel room, i might be a bit nervous
Ms. London: but its like i don't fear you at all, not one little bit, while you wear the shoes
Ms. London: because... the shoes are making you weak
sissyX: yes, so very
Ms. London: good
sissyX: so helpless
Ms. London: yes, but thats a good thing
Ms. London: because i feel so very safe with you
Ms. London: like i could really do anything with you and to you and .... you would be too weak to stop me
sissyX: i try to call for help, but no words come out of my mouth
Ms. London: i know... too weak to make a sound... just silence from your open mouth
sissyX: yes, i try so hard
Ms. London: its ok... its just a hole
Ms. London: an empty hole
Ms. London: your mouth just a silent empty hole
Ms. London: which is good
Ms. London: now i think you better lay down on the bed
Ms. London: you are so weak
Ms. London: I'm going to strip you of everything except the shoes to keep you compliant
Ms. London: and nice
Ms. London: I'm going to completely undress you
Ms. London: so well-behaved!
Ms. London: but i know you feel so vulnerable--naked in front of me
Ms. London: so I'm going to dress you, don't worry
Ms. London: with those sexy shoes on you need a pretty pair of panties
Ms. London: so you dont feel so shy and awkward
Ms. London: lets just slip those on for you
Ms. London: and lets cover those panties with a pretty slip
Ms. London: all silky and nice
Ms. London: a short little slip
Ms. London: up it goes
Ms. London: and.. cant leave your chest bare
Ms. London: can we?
sissyX: no
Ms. London: Ive got just the thing...
Ms. London: a pretty bra
Ms. London: nice pointy cups
Ms. London: ill slip that on you
Ms. London: nice and tight
Ms. London: silence from the hole. I like that
Ms. London: now a little silk camisole
Ms. London: pretty in pink
Ms. London: slip that over your head
Ms. London: and pull it down to the waist
Ms. London: now ive really won, havent i
Ms. London: just nod your head
sissyX: nodding
Ms. London: good, very good
sissyX: trying to call but no words
Ms. London: i know you are struggling, but you cant win
Ms. London: you never could
Ms. London: im stronger than you
Ms. London: you need me, don't you
sissyX: help
Ms. London: oh silly silly
Ms. London: whose going to help you
Ms. London: if you just relax, you'll enjoy it
sissyX: yes ... i don't have a choice, do i?
Ms. London: no, you really dont
Ms. London: would you....
Ms. London: like me to pray for you?
sissyX: you wont let me go and i cannot help myself
Ms. London: you didnt answer my question
Ms. London: let me have my moment yes
sissyX: yes
Ms. London: thank you
Ms. London: so.. ask me
sissyX: please pray for me
Ms. London: now I'm smiling
Ms. London: and i know you are feeling very humiliated with asking me that
Ms. London: but also.. probably turned on. am i right?
sissyX: yes
sissyX: i shiver so much when i feel your power
Ms. London: yes
Ms. London: And now I'll pray for you, as you requested
Ms. London: give me a big wide smile
sissyX: yes
Ms. London: good
Ms. London: now Ive prettied you up
Ms. London: it will be easier
Ms. London: easier for you to find words
Ms. London: what did you miss,
sissyX: i missed your control over me
Ms. London: I'm glad you told me that
sissyX: i love it, when you take control
sissyX: even if i pretend to fight
sissyX: i love it, when you have your moments
sissyX: it would be so intense if you were here
Ms. London: yes
Ms. London: well, id make you look at me
Ms. London: id put my finger under your chin
Ms. London: and force you to look at me
Ms. London: i wonder what you would see in my eyes
sissyX: im shivering , i cant stand it
Ms. London: yes, you can
sissyX: hold my chin tight
Ms. London: i will
Ms. London: do you know what gloat means?
sissyX: no
Ms. London: Contemplate or dwell on one's own success or another's misfortune with malignant pleasure:
Ms. London: to observe or think about something with triumphant and often malicious satisfaction, ...
sissyX: hold me tight please
Ms. London: yes
Ms. London: very tight
Ms. London: am i gloating?
sissyX: yes
 .............................

and so it went.  Actually, since then he has felt weak again.  I must be on a winning streak!
Ms. Londoncalling signing out.
Kneeling N., if you are reading this, I love the shoes.  Well done.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

beautiful shape shifters

Inspiration for the T Girls out there.  What nature denied, these Women have corrected, 'cause...

You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes well you just might find
You get what you need










Don't you just want to salute them?  Take that any way you want.
Less words, more visuals on this post.
Ms. Londoncalling signing out.

Monday, June 13, 2011

So what's a nice girl like Me...

doing in a glory hole? Yes, that's what I asked myself as I sat in the jacket pocket of my sissy slave.

I was pretty close to his heart, and I swear I could hear his heartbeat through the phone, but he was brave and I was encouraging. As you might already surmise, I was on his cell phone, a hidden witness to what for me is the underworld of cock. 

We had been planning this all week and now the hour had come.  Wearing panties and bra underneath his boy clothes, we discussed in the car, outside the Adult Store, what he needed to do.  In we went, and he paid the $10 to go to the back rooms.  We whispered, he took photos, and we waited...

Through the hole two fingers came, which apparently is a signal.  I can't actually remember if there was a signal back, but down my sissy went on bended knees.  Through the hole the cock appeared and I listened to the sounds of sucking from sissy's mouth. After a bit, the cock squirted (in a condom, I might add) and it was over without a leave or thank you.  My sissy felt proud of doing such a good job and having such a quick finale.  "Did I do good, Mistress" sissy asked, knowing full-well, she did!

She wanted more, which really surprised me because I thought one would do to satisfy a fantasy that had been held for years.  Silly me!  In to another room we ventured, and waited.  After a few minutes, we heard a door shut somewhere down the hallway.  Off we went, searching for more, and more there was.  But nothing quite as satisfactory as the first one. Sissy began to lose her pride and wondered why the cock disappeared without the finale.  I found the loss of pride to be so funny and laughed at my little sissy.

After awhile, we drove to another adult store.  In we went, and there they had a communal room (well, I'm sure it had a different name than that, but...)  I heard my sissy ask a man in there "Can I help you with that?"  I heard the reply of "No thanks, I've got it covered."  Poor sissy got a bit dejected from that, but back to a private cubicle room and a cock soon appeared.

After a bit, we decided to return to the first place where there was more activity in the rooms.  At this point, I advised that this time sissy should be on the receiving end, purely (pure?) to learn what her mouth must have felt like.  Always obedient, well, almost always, sissy went in and put her cock through the hole,  and that was sissy's finale.  What she didn't know, but will learn here when she reads this, is that I wanted the evening to end on a high note and not a negative note.  She was gungho to keep at it, but when does a sissy know when to stop?  She doesn't.  That's why she needs a strong woman to tell her "that's enough for tonight!"

I know sissy will have memories of this night for a very long time.  A fantasy finally satisfied.  I was happy to guide and help, and in truth I don't think sissy could have done this without a little 'English Courage' in her pocket.

I do not have an agenda for all sissies to suck cock.  Far from it.  But, I did rather enjoy the whole seediness of it all, the absolute disregard by receiver and giver for any human contact, other than the cock.  I don't believe the separation wall is there just for anonymity.  I believe it's there also because men who go to Glory Holes aren't gay... they are either cock pushing perverts or cock sucking kinksters. Either way, they aren't looking for a relationship of any sort.

What can be more humbling an act than sucking on a cock where the individual is of no regard.  In the case of this sissy, I know the primary emotion he had to feel was that he was pleasing Me. And he did, mainly because he actually followed through.   I've not giving his name here because if anything I am always discreet.  But let me say,  this sissy is a highly regarded professional, outstanding family man,  and has a lot to lose if he was ever caught. I think that was part of the thrill too--being such a slut on bended knees sucking on cock  in a glory hole was completely incongruent with, what is essentially, his inherent decent and moral character.  Maybe that's what made it fun for me too.

So, I sort of understand the one who sucks, and the conflicting needs that can pull him into the undertow, but the guy with the cock in the hole--well, he is more a pervert, isn't he?  His needs are much more base, aren't they?  He doesn't need to feel much of anything.  He's there just to get off, no?  So call me weird, but I have more respect for the one sucking, than I do for the one getting his cock sucked. Now, isn't that confusing for a sissy!  But hey, it's a complex, often confusing, sexual world, at least through my eyes.

A week later, we met again, not in his pocket because he was wearing a pink tank top, tight Lycra shorts, and panties on underneath, a few bangles around his wrist, and  lipstick on his lips.  We went to a conservation park and took a walk through some woods.  Back to nature.  No one around.  We spoke of glory and  agreed it should not be a regular foray.  As I type this I am now thinking of that song by Springsteen... Glory Days.

I changed the template of this blog.  I like to change things around.

Ms. Londoncalling
signing out.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

promised panties

As promised, panties are the subject of this new post. What can I say about panties?  Well, first off, panties are like the sissy's trademark--bit like the collar is for a submissive slave. The word 'panties' has always struck me as a silly sounding word.  Women usually refer to them as knickers or undies.  But, sissies love saying the word 'panties'. 

Another thing about 'panties' is the variety:  bikini, boy shorts, thong, brief, French cut; silky, lacy, cotton, nylon, Lycra, satin; selections coming in a cornucopia of colours. The choice in endless.  From full control to barely there. (Who can forget the scene in the film Bridget Jones' Diary when Hugh Grant reaches under Renee Zellweger's skirt to find her nylon full brief granny-panties and cries "Oh, mummmmmy!" )

And then there are the disappearing panties of laundry rooms, bedroom hampers, bathroom floors, undies drawers, and even in garbage bags left at the door of the local Goodwill.  Yes, I have spoken to a one who actually stole the garbage bag left at a charity shop just so he could pilfer a pair of panties for himself.  How bloody pathetic is that!!!  I gave him a right telling-off.   So, do I trust my undies drawer to be left unattended while the cable guy does wiring in my bedroom?  Absolutely not.  Would I trust any man to home-sit, pet-sit, keep his hands off my shit, while I am away on vacation?  Ummmm, no!  Panties are not safe when a man has a penchant for them.

Over the years, I have learned that for a many, it all begins when very young.  A curious boy goes searching through his mother's or sister's lingerie drawer.  What, in fact, drew him there that first time does vary, but the result is similiar - excitement staring into the forbidden drawer. He reaches in to touch, maybe takes a smell, perhaps rubs them over his face and then over his body, and then.. something even more exciting and strange happens.  He gets this tingly sensation down at his thighs, his heart beat quickens, his breathing becomes erratic, his brain is on overload and thoughts are scrambled.  He, almost instinctively, begins to touch his penis, and then... rather quickly,  its all over, and he's staring down in amazement at the gooey mess that just ejaculated from him  And so begins, the ongoing secret treks to the forbidden drawer.  For some it evolves into wearing bras, stockings, etc., and a lifelong yearning for 'more'.
             
And here, does anyone ever wonder, why is that a curious girl doesn't go to her father's or brother's underwear drawer and pull out a pair of Y-fronts?  And, why is that a curious girl doesn't grab the J C Penny catalogue and go straight to the men's underwear section?  And, why is it that a curious girl doesn't go through hampers or laundry rooms searching for the Y-front or a pair of cotton plaid boxers?

I'll tell you why.  Girls are sexually superior.  Even the most dumb blonde is sexually superior to the male.  Blame it on the cock.  We all do.

Panties are a regular topic of conversation when speaking to my sissies.  Some I humiliate, some I have warm feelings for--an understanding if you like.  Some I just laugh at.  I think it depends on what the pantie brings out in that gurl, and I am, after all,  responding  to the person and not the panties.  As my sissy callers know, I do love to laugh and love a good tease.  Two comments I received from panti-sissies the other week made me laugh.  One comment was that I was a 'posh wicked bitch' and this was from a pantie sniffing, little pervert who has called me on and off for years.  He brings the wicked out in me.  The next comment I received was 'Beverly, I'm going to pray for you'.  That was after he said I abused and exploited him.  I laughed at that, as it was a first.  I mean the praying comment.  I took umbrage at the abuse and exploit comment because as I had said to him before, I only reflect what is already there.  We have spoken for years and I was actually trying to be nice, gradually programming him to open up to his feminine side.  His resentment was more aimed at himself, angry that he was weak and he wanted to hit out.  I think he has said goodbye to me more than half a dozen times and each time comes back on his own volition.  But this time he said he was sad and I didn't like to hear that, so maybe he's gone for good.  There again, there's just as much chance that he will be back.  He had many demons to deal with.  I'll....... pray for him!

And then there is a gurl named robyn.  A sweet gurl.  In fact, a gurl trapped in a male body.  She needs so much more than just a pair of panties.  She wants it all, the whole shebang--to be a woman 24/7.  She yearns to feel desired and wanted by a man.  As she should, as a woman.  She is looking to me to help her feel more confident.

Well, one could go on all day about panties, and my pantie wearing sissies..  Let's finish with some photos.
Parah, La Perla, Agent Provocateur.  Love those designer panties.

On an aside:
A warm welcome to all my new followers. 
And, please do check out the new blog The Femme Fatale Chronicles.  (Warning: not for wimps).

Ms. London.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

When the shoe fits

I have countless pairs of shoes that I don't wear.  I think every woman does.

Shoes are tricky, you see, quite deceiving in their flattery and persuasion of  a perfect match.  They feel so comfortable, so inviting--so seductive, even with 5" inch heels and pointy toes, when parading back and forth in the store.  But, for some mystifying reason, when one gets home,  the shoes turns on their heels and treat the feet like  fools!  They pinch, they feel stiff, too narrow, too high, too... painful.  But, does one take them back and ask for a refund?  No, of course not!  Having been seduced, one is quite convinced (delusional, if you will) that the shoes will revert back to how wonderful they felt in the store.  They will stretch, they will give, they will soften, they will FIT!!!!

And, this is why women have a plethora of shoes in their closet, a lot of which are rarely worn.,  Now, I'm mainly referencing those shoes that make one's legs look maaaaaarvelous. The ones that make one look taller, slimmer, sexier.  Occasionally, we get lucky and the shoes stay faithful from the store to the home, to stepping out.  These are the shoes we treasure.  Settle down, gurls, settle down.  I'm getting to you. 

Gurls, (sissies, trannies, trollops, waywards, cds, etc.) love sexy shoes, slutty shoes, stiletto shoes, pinching the toes shoes.  A gurl doesn't care about comfort--it's all about 'the look' and because most are secret gurls, they don't have to worry about walking too much in them.  When a gurl looks at shoes, as long as she can squeeze her foot in and stand up in them, it really doesn't matter if they pinch.  She ain't walking too far.  Yes, you know what I'm talking about.  The most some of you do is lay down on the bed in them and... as long as the hands and fingers are free to move around, who cares if the toes are numb.  For some of you gurls, shoes are a status thing.  Owning a pair of panties, any sissy can do, but buying a pair of shoes, only a well-advanced gurl will do that.

So, here are some shoes that I love.   Not too much for the slutty gurl to ogle over, but then... find your own 6 inch platform stripper shoes to salivate over.

A couple of these photos are mine (meaning my shoes), the rest are those I want because I think they would look maaaarvalous on me. 










 Reminds of Lalique, just on stilettos.
I own a pair of Stuart Weitz, but these are probably out of my league, dollar wise.




                                                          and finally, just for fun...



So, having gone from hats to shoes, I think....
panties will come next.  Bet all you panty sluts are looking forward to that.

This is Ms. London signing off.