What has gotten me so sideways lately is the retro image of a Woman in a girdle. A pink girdle at that. i've written before about those days in school when glimpses up Girl's skirts collided with puberty and was a major influence on my cross dressing.
The more i look at this picture, the more i look at the past. i think the most significant conclusion is that i was enamored of what i saw up those skirts before i saw what was behind the girdle. By the time i was finally introduced to Pussy, i had become a cross dresser. my interest in what covered the Promised Land has never waned. It's totally ingrained for me to be aroused at the sight of lingerie, and the feel of it.
It was a natural progression, and something that i was vulnerable to, for this to lead to submission to what lies on the other side of girdles and panties. Wearing them n,myself is half of the equation. Mistress Cassie is the other half. She turned my cross dressing into sissification and ultimately submission to Her.
i can't unring the cross dressing bell. That's a permanent part of who i am. The 2nd more recent bell that i can't unring Mistress holds in Her hand. When She rings that bell, i answer the call to servitude.
Like cross dressing, my submission to Mistress is also permanent.
sissy maid diane