Wednesday, December 23, 2009


HO, HO, HO...
Just skipping in to send all the sissies and watchers of this little blog A SEASONAL GREETING OF GOOD CHEER.

Here is hoping all your stockings are filled with good tidings and joy.
And this is Me, putting the balls on the Christmas Tree.
hugs and sissy cuddles,
Ms. London.
p.s. Slave Ron, thank you for these shoes.  Love them!

Friday, December 11, 2009

Kimberly's wardrobe Part II


Stockings and pantyhose, panties and bras, dresses and skirts, and nighties and babydolls... These are the things that make a sissy so happy.

Above are some of the items Kimberly enjoyed this past weekend.  Now, for the curious of mind, who wonder what Kimberly did when she got these lovely items--she dressed up for her Mistress.  Well, actually she was made-up, dressed up, bobbed up with her pretty bob wig, and generally... laughed at, humiliated, and sissified, on and off, in a hotel suite for two days.  She learned to suck on the strap on, learned to walk in those very high heels, and learned the meaning of feminization.  She wanted to look hot, bless her, and she really does have good legs.  We had planned this for some time, and so it was nice to see her enjoying herself.  I also concentrated on her understanding why--exactly why her wife has the right to make her a cuckold.

Yes, Kimberly, also known as 'Buck' (obviously, a name change there) is a married man.  Most of the time he is a submissive husband.  I really should let his wife know that.  But, when the opportunity arises, he becomes My submissive cuckold bitch, Kimberly.  It wasn't always that way.  It began eons ago, when he would call me wearing his sister's pantyhose.  A single boy, a virgin, and I took him under my wing.  Helped him with certain confusions.  Years later, he is now married.  His marriage began conventional enough.  As many of my married sissies know, it is difficult to break the mold of what a husband should be to his wife, and so the secret stays hidden. 

Anyways, move forward a few years.  Kimberly would call at fairly regular intervals, find a hotel and slip into something pretty while we spoke and played with 'her' submissive side.  Up until she got married, she was in the dough and would really throw the money around. Loads to strippers, and tons to Me.  Those were the good old days.  Now, it's not so easy.  His wife took over the accounts, but where there is a will there is a way.  Oh, you know it's true!

Well, about 18 months ago, Buck's life changed.  His wife began an affair.  Well, we have proof of one.  It could be more.  We saw the photos, we found the lies, his wife was away with another man.  Yes, a private investigator got the shots.  The wife goes out every Saturday and doesn't return until the wee hours of the morning and Buck says nothing.  Not a peep out of him. They have not had sex in over a year.  Buck says nothing.  Not a word of complaint.  He knows she is going to meet a man, and he remains silent in this knowledge.  Too afraid to ask. 

Now, many many sissies wish for this.  To be the cuckold hubby is the ultimate recognition that they are useless as men, at least in the sexual department.  But, when it really happens.  When the situation is there in the cold light of day...  a sissy needs a little help in accepting his position and having it rubbed in his face.  I do that.  I am happy to.  He needs my help!  After all, if his wife shows no interest in doing that, I should step in.

We discuss the fact that she must have no respect for him at all.  She doesn't even pretend to show any sexual interest in him anymore.  We analyze, we debate, what she must think and what she must say, and how the man must make her feel.  We talk about Kimberly's size, and lack of experience, and compare this to other men his wife had in her past.  We discuss how his wife dresses now, and how sexy she looks.  As kimberly builds his wife up, he lowers himself down... and down... and down.  And then he needs humiliation.  I rub it in with relish.

Actually, I think his wife has it made.   She does what she wants, goes where she chooses, and she has a husband who never complains.  He's a good worker, a good provider, he doesn't ask for anything.  One might say he was pussy whipped, but...  yeah,  he never gets that. 

Of course, what he would really like is that she would just be completely open about it.  Tell him right to his face he's not enough.  What he would really want is to be part in this.  Help her dress for her lover, be tied and gagged and forced to watch.  Dressed in panties and feminine wear all of the time.  But alas, his wife is doing her thing, and really has shown no inclination in dominating or humiliating hubby Buck, at least not in any obvious way.

Well, that's all for now.  I am trying to get used to a Mac here.  My pc went black and it's taking me awhile to find the right software for photos and my web site.  I've been a bit of a mess.  Where's a good geek sub when you want one?

Ms. London
signing out.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Kimberly's New Wardrobe and updates

Kimberly, a sissy slave who has been known to me for quite a few years, is on a shopping spree...

Being that I am the self-appointed shopper for Kimberly, I thought it might be fun to show some of her new items as they arrive.  Other sissies may feel a bit pink with envy.  I mean, what sissy doesn't love new clothes, new undies, new shoes, especially when worn  for 'her' Mistress. 

Over the next couple of weeks, I'll be adding my photos of what has been bought for her, and also enclosing some mention of the stores.
Sissy Kimberly will be going on vacation early December, and will have a suitcase full of clothes.  Once she reaches her destination, she will be parading on cam for me, receiving my encouragement, training in make-up, co-ordination of colours, and everything feminine.  The clothes chosen for Kimberly are clubby, slutty, sexy,'cause she's that kind of girl.

I hope you enjoy opening the suitcase with me here.

The rather gorgeous Bordello Red Cheetah Platform pumps come in size 12.  $65.95. Bought on line at Skimpy Oufits.

(Click those heels, and follow the pink brick road to the Academy!)

The black and white matching bra and panties were bought at Target.  Reasonable and sexy.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

sissy update and upshot...

I have been rather quiet of late, mainly due to working on my banking business and taking some well-deserved time away. We all need to just kick back sometimes and enjoy new scenery, new adventures, new horizons. This brings me to introduce a topic befitting The Academy blog:

Reason and Reasonable.

Let's face it, some men find new scenery, new adventures, and just a way to escape and relax when they step out of their boy side/clothes and explore their feminine submissive side. It's just so easy to let go and let the Mistress take them where she wants (within reason). Yes, that's right, that was not a typing error. As you know, reasonable is such a quirky thing. For some, within reason (reasonable) means doing something really humiliating, degrading, embarrassing, shocking even. For others, within reason means pleasing, serving, worshipping the Goddess, the Queen, the Ultimate Dominant Woman. And then there are those who just like the whole getup, the sexy undies, the frilly panties, and heels, the boots, the lipstick, the works, 'cause women get to have all the fun with dressing up. Does it matter what the reason? No, I don't believe it does. The reason behind the need, the want, the urge, or the desire is not what I am discussing here. For one thing, that could take a book, not a posting! No, my brief deliberation is more: The difference and matter of the reasonable request. That's where the line can become a bit hazy for both parties, Mistress and submissive, unless good communication and listening skills are put to good use. For the most part, I don't believe anyone can be forced to follow through on what is seen to them as a totally unreasonable request.

Case in point, a little playful sissy made to repeat a lot of sissy words, told to curtsy, told to do a silly dance, will happily comply with those ludicrous instructions if he gets excited by his performance; if he feels he is making a Mistress happy; if she seems to be enjoying his obedience and, and this is important, he feels he is travelling with someone who knows his triggers and enjoys pushing them. Everyone is happy.

Now let's take another case. A man who likes cross-dressing, wants to feel feminine, cared for, sexy and sensual, wants to actually know what it feels like to be treated as a female. The above mentioned requests would seem unreasonable to him, he would not be excited by the humiliating tasks. Furthermore,he would feel the Mistress is completely uncaring and that he is being encouraged to travel to a dark and lonely place. The Mistress would lose all sense of power, and in this case no one is happy.

As the reader will glean from past posts, I treat each of my sub missives differently. This isn't to say I change my personality, but certainly my expectations, demands, and wickedness does change with my sense of what would be reasonable for this submissive. The hazy line that takes one to a different place, a different self, and yet still works within what is a reasonable, exciting, boundary. Well, it takes an intuitive Mistress to find that line.

But here is the bottom line, it's got to be felt as exciting, and it's got to have some reasonable objective to keep the power play secure. No sissy wants the feeling of failure (unless that's his bag!) and no Mistress wants to feel her power slipping away.

It takes two to Tango, and there has to be one who leads and one who trusts. When I go dancing with my sissies, I know what steps they can do, and what they cannot do.

So, when I report on My little rachael, out there on the streets, doing the dirty, for her my requests and humiliating little pep talks seem very reasonable. 

And My little Camden Slut--I mean, who else could I punish with dirt from the garden stuffed in his mouth, while he wrote out his lines of contrition for his potty mouth when speaking of his girlfriend.  Who else would I expect to then follow it up with a bar of soap stuffed in his mouth while he wrote out even more lines of apology.  Bet he never speaks of Her like that again.  But, I knew that would be in the realm of reasonable punishment for my pathetic cuckold Camden Slut.  I constantly rebuke him and often laugh at him, and believe me, he gets excited with every insult and every threat.  The line is recognised and everyone is happy.  Well, sort of.  He informed just a moment ago his mouth still hurts and he hates soap!

When I dress Tiffany and take her shopping, and molest her in the dressing room, and then take her home for a good romp, it is a reasonable fantasy. Everyone is happy.  Our stories always have a happy ending!

When I send neil, who really should be renamed nell, out on embarrassing errands, and have him put on the panties and run around the garden... he finds that a reasonable request because he knows it makes me laugh, and he gets excited and happy in making me happy. 

When I constantly 'use' whatever martini tells me in confidence, and throw it back at him, reversing the tables, even.. bending him over the table, well... it's okay because this reasonable request makes him feel like a good boy, the best boy ever, the numero uno, the teacher's pet. etc. Teacher is happy. Everyone is happy.  I would never ever make martini eat dirt.  Just have him hump the sofa while we watch Kylie on youtube.  He looked so cute!

When my bitch mickey has been working hard, needing a little bitch time with Mistress, do I say... "let him eat cake/soap"?  Of course not.  I tell him to put on his panties, kneel at my feet, and tell him what a wonderful night I had with a real man.  He loves to hear my reveries...  He often ends up over my lap or on all fours.  Never quite know what I'm going to do with him until I do it.  We are sort of French because it is usually in the early afternoon hours he calls upon me. Mon petit cheri.  Always fun, always reasonable.

And what is reasonable for the Mistress? the reader may ask. What is reasonable for me is that the sissy/submissive/in between girl is always polite. I cut to the cold if I am displeased in the way I am spoken to. I am always polite even when hurling insults and ridicule. I am going to have fun, no matter what, or where the boundary of reasonable lies. It's up to me to know where that boundary is or how far it can be pushed, in order to retain power.

So, to reiterate, the reason doesn't matter, but the reasonable does. Think about it, think of the things you search for in a Mistress, the things you long for her to test you with. Then, think of something really distasteful, something that would not excite you at all, and you will understand how important it is that the Mistress is willing to understand your sense of reasonable, and that she is willing to accommodate your reasonable... request.

Gosh, I'm the sissies Advocate in this posting!

For my regular sissies, I know things have been a bit difficult with strange days at Nite. I have been rather obscure in my absences and availability. Just keep your eyes out for me.

Until the next time,
Ms. London.

P.S. This little getup should be an unreasonable request for anyone!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

INTERESTING ARTICLE- proving it's never too late to change (clothes)

This article taken from The Sun Newspaper. September 14th, 2009. Alastair Taylor.

WARNING... RACHEL IS 75 YEARS OLD! So you might just want to read the below article, and leave the photo behind.

EX-miner Rachel Fleetwood bragged today that she is Britain's oldest transsexual — at the ripe old age of SEVENTY-FIVE.
Three times married Rachel, who was born Roy Colton, lived most of her life as a MAN.

For decades manly Roy — who worked down the pit and at a railway — secretly dressed up in women's clothing despite having tattoos on his arms and knuckles.

But five years ago HE finally became a SHE and came out of the closet ... deciding she wanted to change sex and dress openly as a woman.

She admitted secretly taking hormone tablets for more than five years before announcing to friends and family shortly after her 70th birthday: "From now on call me Rachel."

Now she is legally known by the name after changing it by deed poll.
 Rachel — who lives at a care home in Sheffield, South Yorkshire — wears lipstick and nail varnish every day, and staff help her to dress in smart women's clothing.

Today Rachel told how she got married and divorced three times despite having the hidden desire to live as a woman for more than 50 years.

Finally after the last marriage ended in divorce a decade ago Rachel started taking hormone tablets. And in n2004 she changed her name.

Rachel — whose three wives walked out after they realised her love of secretly dressing up — said: "I don't know anybody of the same age as me who is a transsexual. But I wanted to do it all my life, completely.

"My dad made me be a boxer, a wrestler, a footballer, a cricketer, all the men's games, and yet I wasn't that way inclined.

"After my third marriage broke down I thought, 'Right, this is the opportunity I've wanted, I'm going to take it'.

"I started taking hormones and then five years ago I changed my name to Rachel and stuck my grandma's surname on the end, Fleetwood.

"The staff dress me up around the home. I've got skirts and things in my wardrobe, and they will dress me up and take me down to dinner."

Rachel suffers osteoarthritis and is wheelchair-bound after a series of strokes — believed to have been brought on by the hormone tablets.

He said: "I bought the hormone tablets myself because I wanted to be a woman. I didn't ask my doctor - I think that's where I slipped up and that's why I've had these strokes.

"My first stroke took my arm out, the second took my left leg out. The doctor came to me and told me to stop taking the hormone tablets, otherwise they'd kill me.

"I was bitterly disappointed when I was told to stop. I was fuming, because I'd been taking them for a few years. I'm certain I got the same amount of pleasure as women do when they take Hormone Replacement Therapy. I feel there's a woman inside me trying to get out."

Rachel said she kept her cross-dressing private initially, as the moral climate of the 1950s made it impossible for a man to change his sex.

She added: "My first wife took me to court for a divorce and she openly said in the court, 'My husband is a transvestite'.

"That frightened me to death. Anybody could have been in there, and my life would have been over.

"At that time there were people going around bashing everybody up who didn't look right, so I had to do my dressing up in the dark at night time where nobody could see me."

Rachel said she first dressed as a woman by wearing her sister's clothes.

She added: "I wore a Mexican type of hat and one of my sister's dresses and under-petticoat.

"My mum saw me for the first time dressed up, and she gave me a compliment. She said, 'I didn't know I'd got two daughters', and I thought you can't get higher praise than that."

Rachel moved from Sheffield to Colne, Lancashire, in the 1950s, but recently moved back to a care home in the Yorkshire city.

She said the staff at the home were "very accepting" of her unconventional lifestyle.

She added: "I've had a happy life, no regrets. I've enjoyed my life, and I'd do it all over again if I could, because I've done nothing wrong as far as I can see. It's virtually like being born again."

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Porn for Women

I received these in the mail and thought I would pass them along. Rather cute, and for the sissies here very dreamy, except... no panties! I'll have to do something about that, won't I.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

From male to Female

I think you gurls might enjoy, and won't find it a drag...

Monday, June 8, 2009

The Gurls of the Academy...

I have been rather busy with my sissies lately, here, there, and everywhere. They are such funny little things, and love to amuse and obey. What good sissy doesn't?

So, here's an update on some of the gurls of the Academy:

Dear Rachael is still roaming the streets of Euston--she has now been christened my Euston Slut. An American in London... She really ought to write a book. She calls me on regular basis, and always opens her handbag, empties out the dosh, and then we sit down and have a nice little chat about all the cocks she has had. I help her with positive affirmation of her submissive slutty self and remind her that Rachael is a slut, and only feels good when she is humiliated. She understands, it's what she is. Nothing she can do about it. If only I could find her a nice big tranny in the Euston area, set up a date, and maybe, just maybe... they could live happily ever after. Awwwwwwwwwww. But, until that day, she is destined to walk the streets, swinging her handbag and doing what she must, to feel desirable, feminine, wanted...

Rachael, if you reading this, as you can see, I'm putting out feelers for a Euston Tranny for you.


Prefer non-smoker.

And then there is 'Kneel". We do have such fun together. It's not really that he is a total sissy, but this does come into play alot. He loves to do daring things, and amuse, and be tested. I am teaching him ways to be submissive to his wife, who he loves very much. It's just she doesn't quite get, or want to get, that submissive side of him. This really is a discussion that should be opened up at some point. But right now, here's how our last session went...

Kneel being rather cheeky, had intimated to me that he would be motivated to buy me something off my Wish List if... (and get this!) I would update my blog!!! Well, I didn't take kindly to that, and told him quite firmly that I would write in my blog if and when I felt like it. Period! He quickly apologised, but the boy/gurl needed to be reminded who runs the show.

Kneel happened to be away at a conference and apparently he had "sold out" to the Corp. Guys on his ideals and was feeling pretty wimpy about it. Ah ah.... I saw a door of opportunity open for mischief. I then went on to give him his assignments.

Previously, he had an assignment to buy a little butt plug (yes, he was virgin!) and a pair of panties. For this assignment, he was to insert the little butt plug (yes, t'was the night I took his cherry) and put on his panties and pantyhose and then dress (boy clothes) and walk up to the main hotel, which he informed me was rather a long walk. He was then instructed to go to the hotel bar and order himself a Shirley Temple with a Cherry. Well, as he was made to see, Shirley Temple was an appropriate beverage because he was such a puss in giving in to the Corp. guys, and the Cherry was... well in celebration of me taking his virginity. He really didn't deserve anything stronger, did he? He took on this part of the assignment with good humour and sissy cockiness, knowing he would pass with flying colours. He did.

He was then to go join the banquet and pick a pretty woman and ask her to dance (butt plug still in place, mind). He was to inform her of the drink he had just ordered and why. He managed to dance with an attractive female within his party, and did as I told him. Apparently, she just smiled when he confessed to be being 'a wuss'. What made this more interesting (at least for me), is that he believes (even if he might be a tad delusional) that she has a bit of crush on him. Makes it even more fun, doesn't it? He was also told to go to the hotel lobby shop and ask for an extra small packet of condoms. Well, the last didn't work because they only had one size. After he had semi-completed this assignment, with a packet of regular size condoms in his pocket, the last of his assignments came next. He was to go buy me something off my Wish List--penance for earlier cheekiness. He did, and not just one, but two items. Thank you, Kneel. And, only now, a couple of weeks later, do I sit and write my blog, in my own time, in my own way.

Kneel and I have a good lot of laughs, and I think he will come along nicely. He does try, and that's all I ask.

20 cl ginger ale 3 cl grenadine syrup
Build in a highball glass. Add ginger ale over ice and sprinkle grenadine syrup over it. Garnish with a lemon slice and a CHERRY.

Martini Boy... Such a good little slut for me. He performs, he pleases, he is polite, and fun. He has done many a trick on cam for me, and all he asks for is for me to be amused. What woman can turn her nose up at that? I have introduced him to another sissy slut, yep... my Camden Town Slut. They both got a kick out of outdoing the other. So competitive in their showing off to see who is more devoted. Anyway, Martini Boy has promised that if he ever has an 'accident' thinking of me, he will write and confess it here, and pay up! I don't see anything wrong with touching and thinking of me. Hardly! I encourage it. But, when it comes to accidents of a certain sort, well... it cheapens me and the bearer of the accident if I don't benefit in some way. We shall see if he ever gets bold enough to write on here. Martini boy and I go way back, and I wanted to give some mention here today because he deserves a little recognition. Little? Martini? Did you get that? lol.

I did it again!

Camden Town Slut... He has actually shown a little improvement in some areas regarding stupidity. I still have to watch over him, smack his little balls, whip his arse, and remind him of what he is, but I haven't been really pissed at him lately. I think that's a good thing. He would probably beg to differ. I did say in some areas, didn't I? His latest thrill is imagining his wonderful girlfriend is having sex with real men. Oh, what a surprise--a sissy imagining that!

Look at the photo, my little cuckold wannabe.

imagine wonderful girlfriend, in the arms of a real man...

Tiffany... We do have some fantasies, don't we? I take her travelling, exploring possibilities. I've made her my best friend, my sissy maid, my slut, and my wifey. Oh, she loved that. Even had the wedding ceremony. The bride wore white, I wore black leather. She wore a silky white negligee, I wore... a strap on. Oh, what a wedding night...

Well, this could run on... There is one missing. I've spoken earlier and in detail on the sensual Ms. Millie. She has evaporated. Perhaps all too much for her. Perhaps I've been jilted. She called the other week just to say hello. Seemed a little lost in what to say to me. Never mind, I'll always love her, in my own special way. She knows that.

Now, for you sissies who are sitting there saying... What about Me???????????? Don't worry. You'll have your minute of fame too. Give me time.

And for any of my sub missives who wander over here and wonder why they are not mentioned. Let me remind you, just because you put on a pair of panties when told to, that doesn't qualify you. I know submission and sissification can and sometimes do mate, but believe me, I'll let you know when you are eligible to enter the ranks of the Academy.

Until the next time,
this is
Ms. Beverly
London signing out.

Sunday, March 15, 2009


Having suffered a week of the flu with accompanying cough, congestion, runny nose, aches and pains, and doses of Tylernol and antibiotics, I found the only thing that gave me some relief was watching DVDs. Television annoyed me with the commercials, HBO wasn't offering much, and magazines and books seemed to bore or demand too much concentration. A book I had been looking forward to finding time to read, The Human Stain, I found too depressing a quarter way in. Even the DVDs had to have a certain 'something'. I was quite particular in what would give me some relief from my moribund state of mind.

Obviously, tonight I am finally feeling better, and while I was thinking about the DVDs that helped the week go by, I thought I'd make a list of DVDs that might entertain my gurls whether they have the flu or not.

So, here is a list of the 10 best cross dressing/transgender films that I have seen. If I miss one and someone feels inclined to make a comment like "I can't believe you didn't mention..." Just mention it. After all, isn't everyone a critic? Perhaps I should have a Flu List too, but this is The Academy, and so I'm keeping it of interest.

MY BEST TEN FILMS for Crossdressers to watch

  • SOME LIKE IT HOT. Billy Wilder.
  • HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH John Cameron Mitchell
  • VELVET GOLDMINE. Todd Haynes
  • MA VIE EN ROSE Alain Berliner
  • LA CAGE AUX FOLLES Ugo Tognazzi
  • THE CRYING GAME Neil Jordon.
  • TOOTSI Sidney Pollack.
  • Mrs. DOUBTFIRE. Chris Columbus.

And, I just want to take this opportunity to extend a WELCOME TO THE ACADEMY'S NEW FOLLOWERS. Glad to have you on board.

To my Academy pupils, I know I've not been around to teach you a thing or two, and no doubt you have been misbehaving or sulking in my absence, but I shall be back with a strong hand this coming... week.

Gosh, it's good to feel better!

Ms. London.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Without a Trace

I'm a bit unclear on how to put this. It's a bit of a tender subject. For a start, let's just say it's about devotion.

From varying intercourse, with my many callers, over various years, I am aware that there are people who find themselves traipsing around in the vast chambers of their minds. Some rooms are sunlight and cheery. Others are a bit darker and more given to brooding than, say, needlepoint or a pedicure. Some are damp. Moist. Some with hidden passages, dusty and laden with the filaments of long-gone spiders who have abandoned them for a lack of prey to feast on. All rooms share one thing in common--secret panels that can open up when the right button is pressed. Panels with torch-lit paths, leading...

And you know what? These panels are there. In every mind. Every single one. Now don't get me wrong - I'm not saying that I can describe them for each person. But trust me. I know they're there. The kinksters, obviously. But also the man in the gray flannel suit. Or cleric's collar. Everyone has them. Not everyone's aware of them, these panels that pop open and lead into the halls that have no windows.

But there are those who love to explore them. Those, who know the button is there, and just need a little persuasion to press, and enter in.

And why on earth would they want that? Why would they want be drawn to that hidden doorway? Why, when, as they get close, they feel something stir not in their loins but in their spinal column--a flare shooting up their backs. seeming to explode, quietly, at the base of their skulls, making them at once uneasy and at the same time weak? Why would they enter a realm where on the first intake of breath something at the back of their throat catches and something in the pit of their stomach grows tight?

My questions aren't arbitrary. Or gratuitous. I ask for a reason.

Quite recently - oh, hell, last night - I had the pleasure and honor (oh, why not?) of talking yet again with a man who (surprise surprise) is reasonably successful, part of an ongoing relationship, and a bit less in touch with his feminine side than he'd like to be. This feminine side - let's call her halley - is so many things that her male alter ego is not. Receptive, loves to listen, increasingly sensitive and aware of other people's feelings, remarkably attuned to many things. she's also hideously traditional, though she has the good sense to understand that there are alternate ways of being as a woman. she knows that some women are assertive where she is passive, that some are controlling where she is deferential, that some like to make demands and give orders where she is most comfortable being told what to do. In fact, she finds these women extremely appealing and attractive.

The interesting thing here is that for years, many years, in fact, and even today, she has found and continues to find that overtly ballsy, assertive women are not appealing. It's the woman who is caring and tender yet has a very strong center that she likes so much. And admires and seeks to be close to.

There's a tension between halley's male alter ego and herself, and I've been working with her to handle that. she's attached, but not fully, in a vanilla relationship. Our converastions began with panties and then a camisole, lipstick, getting used to feeling arousal and being on that lovely level of desire where arousal creates a sense of longing and a willingness to hold back to explore.

The desire - for more things feminine, to let herself withhold from pleasure - increased with time.

she became increasingly devoted.

But devoted to what, one might ask.

Was she devote to me? Devoted to the serenity she found from tucking and wearing panties and a slip? And how did I feel letting her feel things that compromised or altered her sense of herself?

Well. she was certainly, to a point, devoted to me. I provided her with understanding and a form of pleasure and compassion she didn't find elsewhere in her life.

Please understand: philosophically, i have nothing against alpha males, except perhaps for their rampant greed which has led our country into an economic abyss and the more than occasional rape and murder of women here and there.

But, yes, I was happy to provide halley with a safe haven. And certainly she found peace and longing through talking with me. If she became more sensitive and aware of the feelings of others through talking with me, I certainly wasn't going to complain about that - if she no longer always recognized herself in the mirror, if she was at work and wondered how she'd got there. If she became even more uncomfortable in her own alter alpha male skin.

And if she felt compelled to express her feelings to me.

How on earth could I feel bad about letting halley be herself? I accept her devotion, and accepted it, even if it became a bit of a compulsion for her. I embraced her desire to be close to someone who was understanding. Even as it consumes her. Even as she finds herself increasingly drawn to parts of her self that once caused her dread and shame.

Her shame. I love it. It's so rewarding to relieve her of it.

Except when she needs that choking jolt of control. Soon, her ability to control what she feels will be gone. In my hands. And it will have disappeared, as far as she's concerned, without a trace.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Charity vs Dumpster

I recently spoke to a new gurl by the name of Stephanie. I was rather impressed with her choice of poses, make-up, and the effort put forth in her photo submissions. I have included a sample of them here in way of encouraging others with similar desires of wanting to be 'seen' as a woman. My primary reason, however, for introducing Stephanie here is that her fortunate situation brought to mind others not so fortunate. And, an idea struck me...
But first of all, the reason why Stephanie is so fortunate. This gurl has an enviable amount of feminine outfits, shoes, make-up, dresses, panties, skirts, wigs, etc. etc., all stored away, but readily available for when Steph wants to play. She has 30 pairs of shoes, for goodness sake! Stephanie has that rare luxury of not having to hide or feel guilty about her femme wardrobe. Not only that, she is married and has a wife accepting of her cross-dressing ways. Okay, some of her accessories--desires, fantasies, urges, are hidden, but they are intangible, and as such, can be locked away in the closet of her mind.

I know, for the less fortunate, the feminine wardrobe has to be limited, and for others even less fortunate still, the femme garb has to be tossed away, hurridly disposed of--purged. Far too often through fear, lack of storage, guilt, or the misconception that they can stop being gurly. This whole exercise, repeated again and again, can be so wasteful, especially in these economic times.

So, the idea struck me:

IF you are in a position where you have to toss your gurly clothes, why not take the time to drop off the bag of clothing (if unsoiled, of course) at the local charity shop, or goodwill, or Humane Society. It just makes sense, doesn't it? Okay, no tax deduction, 'cause I KNOW you don't want to hang around for a receipt. But, you will be doing some good in giving to charity. Charity? Nice name for a gurl too, isn't it.

So you see, the reason for my blog entry today is that I want all those unfortunate sissies out there who throw their femme things away for one reason or another, to just stop and think before heading to the nearest dumpster.

I can tell you horror stories about shoes, clothing, wigs, jewellery, and undies that have ended up tossed in a dumpster, forever doomed at a distant land fill, and why? Because a sissy got scared or went into denial, or did not have storage facilities. Point in case, one sissy of mine, named Kimberley, tossed over a $1000 worth of clothing in dumpster. Yes, I was quite annoyed by this. Well, for one thing, I had gone shopping and bought those items for her, taking great care in choice and sizing. Naturally, I didn't spend my own money, and obviously I was paid for my time, but still... such a waste! And, worse part is, he has done this on three separate occasions. Speaking of Kimberley, I have personally known this little sissy for over 7 years. Got him as a young thing, still in college. But, that's another story, and will no doubt come to my readers in more detail at another opportune moment.

Now, it's not just the unfortunates who can do some good here. What about the gurls who just get tired/unexcited by their hardly ever worn shoes/boots/dresses, and whatnot, 'cause I know gurls love new things to wear. Again, take the unexciting items of clothing to your favorite charity shop/drop off area. I do this all the time. When I get bored with clothes I haven't worn much, or shoes that pinch my toes. Off they go to my personal pet charity.

Ms. Beverly.

London Academy.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Ja'mie King of Summer Heights.

I've included a link to youtube for my little wannabees to watch and learn. Not only is this show quite hilarious, but you will LOVE the character of Ja'mie King, plus learn a great deal in feminine mannerisms.