A Contribution Writing For Kink Weekly
It was a long way into my kinky journey before I had given the proper amount of thinking to why I have always enjoyed the sight (and very idea!) of boys who like āgirlyā things. I didnāt grow up in the modern times we now find ourselves in, where gender is fluid, and crosses boundaries rarely imagined before, all as a way of self expression, comfortableness, identity, and a lifestyle. Many of us remember the āboyā and āgirlā toy aisles very blatantly separated, variations of 50 shades of blue and pink galore.
This, I believe, is where the substructure of my alpha female personality started to form. I didnāt intend to have a particular disdain for all things āgirlyā, I just did. I had waist length hair that I refused to wear down most of time, even when my parents insisted on pigtails, of all god awful hairstyles. I didnāt wear dresses, the closet full of them gathering dust and stretching on my broad little shoulders. Nail painting, makeup, heck Barbies (whose hair I would shave and dye various colors with fingernail polish) were not something I was mildly interested in. Well into my teens I still considered myself a tomboy even with my beauty pageant awards tucked away behind Nirvana posters and lava lamps.
I wouldnāt say I hated being a girl but I certainly didnāt enjoy it the way most girls seemed to. I couldnāt get myself to get too excited, we couldnāt even pee standing up (!), a problem GoGirl finally attempted to fix. āWhat was so great about being a girl anywayā I would ask myself constantly.
It wasnāt until I met the most girly boy I knew in college that it all started to click. His name was Evan but I called him āEveā often. He was beside himself at not being a girl.
āYou donāt know what youāre missingā heād sigh and say wishfully looking through my unopened high heel boxes and gifted lingerie. Finally, one day I asked him what being a girl would mean to him. He went on and on about the depths of social acceptance and grace that I’ll never forget. Also he found frilly, silky things nice.
āSo, let me make you a girlā I offered one day. His reaction was that of someone who had just opened the door to Ed McMahon holding a fated Publishers Clearing House check. (Does anyone remember those?). He jumped up and down, speechlessly squealed and nodded until I thought his neck was going to fall off and then he started to playfully beg ā the light bulb in my head didnāt just light up, it exploded.
What followed was a series of trials, errors, and lots of fun finding the feminine that was deeply hidden inside of myself through a boy. He let me have free range of his āEveā side as we called it. He didnāt say no to anything and even suggested things I hadnāt even considered.
He was my first sissy doll and I didnāt even know it!
Iāve long since gotten in touch with my feelings behind sissies, crossdressers, and just generally boys who like to (and deserve to) feel pretty and have tried to spread my view on this wherever I can. I donāt speak for all cis-females who have an affinity for a nice pair of legs in stockings belonging to a male, I am only sharing what I find draws me in this direction.
Flattery will get you everywhere (maybe even in my panties)
I know it takes a lot of āballsā for a male identified person to take the leap to dress up as the superior sex and I am flattered by that. The pains of bras, lacey panties, garter belts, stockings, heels, and not-poking-yourself-blind when applying nearly all makeup can only fully be appreciated once youāve experienced it. Since entering the kink community, I have been able to chat, play with, and get to know some really amazing boys who like to dress up as girls. Iāve been a part of several transformation processes from beginning to end, feeling nothing but pride at the end results. For me personally, growing up it was a lot easier for me to āact like a boyā and get away with it, than the majority of men Iāve met whose femme side was stifled, shamed and even forbidden! I like to think every boy who wants to, and gets to express his girly side (big or small), is finally being given permission to find his power.
ā¦I present to youā¦
Ahh the great reveal. Thisā¦this is when I get the most enjoyment out of watching boys in dresses do their thing. Try as hard as I might, I can never really imagine a man as their female self. Even when Iām the one crafting/creating the look! How they will walk, what style of clothes they choose, the hair (OMG the hair), if they will opt-out of certain feminine aspects, and even the shades of makeup applied, all speaks to my creative roleplay and costume side. Thereās still a part of me that gets overjoyed at costume parties, playing dress-up, and looking at a ānew personā in the mirror when it suits me. Gender bending is the beacon of that in my eyes.
Girls just wanna have fun
I canāt think of a time that Iāve witnessed a man dressing up as a female who didnāt express the rush often associated with such. Especially if they went undetected! Not every boy who dresses up wants to āpassā but for those who do or at least fly under the radar it can be a glimpse into an unfamiliar, yet very real world they currently live in. Some of the people Iāve spent time with who cross these self-imposed, societal reinforced lines for the first time ever experience something new and exciting. They can partake in activities, conversations, roles, and go places mentally and physically uncharted to them. My sissy has no interest in being treated like a lady until heās dressed in his sissy side and then he wants all the stops haha ā door holding, chair pulled out, slutty pet names, and more. Itās fun to see how āsheā would like to be treated.
Itās just fucking hot
Iāve come to learn I just like boys in panties and more. Iām so used to wearing these items myself that itās a flip of my senses to feel it on another. Have you ever watched as pantyhose stretched to contain an ever growingā¦erā¦excitement? Or how those new to lipstick still hold their lips slightly pouted out while wearing it? The tiny, purposeful steps taken when the wearer isnāt adept at heelsā¦yep all of this tickles my lady loins. Finding out two exes of mine were secretly dressing up without me because of the response theyād gotten from previous partners was heartbreaking and also a missed opportunity for us to connect.
Without Evan, I never would have blossomed into the stiletto nailed, heel wearing, garter belt owning, makeup enthusiast I am today. It took a boy who liked girly things to teach me how awesome it was to honor my feminine power within. In a system that is slowly undoing the design to work against women, itās always been a fresh breath of air to encounter someone who willingly shares that power with me despite everything being told to them of the contrary.
I know not all femdoms, or any one for that matter, is into the non-humiliating aspect of boys dressing up but I am. I also know for those guys who are dressing, whether undisclosed or not a big fear is being found out. Iāve seen the authentic reveal of this ruin relationships, break trust, create an unseen sense of shame through judgement, and worse ā breaking up and alienating friends and family.
This post is for those people.
Youāre not alone. There are other men who like the very same and maybe more than you do. There are executives donning satin underwear in meetings, Dads who have a favorite lipstick color, boyfriends who prefer eyeshadow to mowing the lawn, and guys who get a rush when they put on a wig and see someone new in the mirror. And for each one of those, there is a female out there who will not only admire but embolden you to embrace that side of yourself. They love you for you. And if they donātā¦fuck emā.