1. Trust


    Date: 7/17/2015, Categories: BDSM, Shemales, Author: klammer, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    of the next week. I gave her a whole day to calm down, then called her up. It was an awkward conversation. Once we got past the preliminaries, she asked me if I was willing to trust her, and when I asked, clarified that that still meant wearing the damned ridiculous dress. Now, I admit I desperately wanted that dress, wanted to wear it, wanted to play at being Amy for real... but I was *not* going to admit it. I look *stupid* in a dress. I mean, really ridiculous. Hairy legs, knobbly knees, big hands and feet. The mustache doesn't help much either. Or the nose, I guess. So I refused, of course. I mean, I *knew* that she would never be interested in me sexually if she once saw me dressed, and I had my pride. The dregs of it, anyway. And what she wanted, I thought, was to try to humiliate me, to make me stop. I asked if I could have the stories back. She said no. But I could have the dress. We were both crying when we said goodbye. I tried again two days later. It might have been the exact same conversation. We were both locked into our positions, and couldn't budge out of them. I wasn't going to be a party to my own humiliation. I didn't tell her that, but I did say that I had stopped. The only thing she asked to that, was whether I had carried out a purge of my clothing, and she strictly forbade it. Anyway, she refused to return my papers again, and we were both crying, again, and we said goodbye, again. Except she added, &#034Lee, don't call me until you're ready to trust ...
    me.&#034 Which meant, ready to be humiliated, I understood. The last thing she whispered I wasn't sure I'd heard, for months. &#034I still love you.&#034 I worried about her concern for a purge all weekend. The only thing I could think of was that she planned on exposing me, and wanted that for evidence. Well, I could get around that -- I've got lots of experience, lots of dodges. I found a self-storage warehouse place, and dumped a box full of clothes and cosmetics into a five-by-five. I wrote a careful note, basically, &#034I'd really like to have the printout,&#034 put it with all her stuff, and dropped it off at her house one day when she wasn't home. Left the key on top. I suppose I could have searched for it, but that would *really* have been a betrayal of trust, and I shied from it. I had to take her things back, because I was getting tempted to wear them. I admit, I sort of hoped she would give me the dress when she gave me the printout, but when the dress turned up, alone (well, with the accessories, but without the printout), I realized that I didn't really want it. No, that's not right, either. I realized that I wanted it *too much*. I put it all in the mail to her. And then hoped she'd mail it back. But she didn't. A pair of months passed, and I spent Halloween at home, with the lights out, pretending there was nobody there -- and in boy clothes. We were coming up on the end of the semester. I'd been feeling truly wretched. Other girlfriends had found out; I used to ...
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