This post will have no illustrations, for obvious reasons.
I've recently been thinking back to when I was 11...
I'd already been playing dress-up for some time, but lately with increasing frequency and secrecy.
As a smaller child (6? 7?), I had learned I was a perfect fit for my grandmother's shoes. I would walk back and forth, to the harmless amusement of my grandparents, while they tried to watch the Johnny Carson show. I was also fascinated by TV shows - mostly comedies and cop dramas - where male characters disguised themselves as women for various convoluted plot reasons. At 5, I had a coloring book where a boy and girl found a trunk full of clothes in an attic and played dress up. I remember asking my grandmother if the boy ever played dress up in the girl clothes, and vice versa. I don't remember her answer, but I seem to think it was non-committal.
But now that I was on the cusp of adolescence, this kind of play had to be done in secret. Not the least of which because there was suddenly an increasingly
sexual aspect to playing dress up, which definitely hadn't been there before.
Suddenly... as a pubescent being, the allure of my young aunt's lingerie became, for the first time, irresistable. Fascinated and excited, I would sneak one article at a time from either the dresser drawer or the clothes hamper into the bathroom to examine and try on. One day a pair of colorful silky nylon panties, another day a white front hook padded A cup bra, another day a pair of suntan Leggs Sheer Energy pantyhose. My experiments were gradually getting bolder and increasing in frequency.
One day when no one was home, I decided I could not resist the opportunity to stay in her room and try it all on together, for the first time ever. I stripped naked of what must have been either my school or soccer uniform, and with trembling hands opened the treasure-filled lingerie drawer. I pulled out the softest, silkiest pair of panties I could find, and wiggled into them. I found a well padded lace bra, eased the straps over my shoulders, hooked the sexy confection behind my back, and rounded out the cups by stuffing pantyhose in them. I bunched up another pair of silky hose, pointed my feet into the toes, then rolled then up my slender, still-hairless legs one at a time and then up over the panties. I adjusted a satiny nylon half slip around my waist, discovering for the first time the sensual feeling of the slip gliding over the smooth, sheer layers of the pantyhose and panties beneath. Finally I slid my hosed feet into a pair of black high heel pumps. The shoes had been a tight fit on their own, but now with the pantyhose encasing my feet, they slid in perfectly... effortlessly... and sensuously.
Wow. I was really overcome with excitement at this point. I click-clicked in my heels over to the mirror, and was greeted by a girl my age dressed from head to toe in sexy lingerie. I must have posed in front of that mirror endlessly. The girl in the mirror was there for as long as I wanted to look at her, posing and pouting from every conceivable angle, an actress displaying the full range of human emotions. I wanted to be her forever.
But my grandparents came home suddenly and unexpectedly. Too fast for me to change back. I hid behind the bed, an 11 year old boy still dressed in full lingerie, while they looked for me. My heart was pounding as they stood at the door to the room, then moved on. They went outside to see if I was in the yard, and I had my chance to change back. I tore everything off in a panicked blur and pretended I had been hiding in a closet to play a joke.
It was a near miss, but it didn't stop me from further adventures. I was eventually trying on garter belts, leotards, bathing suits, dresses, skirts, even pantyliners, and more.
During those early years, I used to imagine that surely I'd grow out of this insane madness by the time I was grown up...18 years old... 21 years old. Those ages seemed so fully grown at the time.. adult... mature.
But by the time I actually reached those ages, I certainly hadn't stopped. At 21, I even fantasized for a little while about what would have happened if my current 21 year old self could have traveled back in time to meet my younger self. Would I have shocked her? embarrassed her? counseled her? encouraged her? played dress up with her?
As a young teenager, dressed in lingerie, I was probably the most tempting piece of tranny jailbait ever. Would it have altered my sexual orientation to have had an encounter with a male bodied person at that age?
Now when I look back from my current perspective, all I wonder is what it would have been like if she'd been allowed to take hormone therapy.
She probably would have remained at 5'4".
Her feet would never would have outgrown those size 9 shoes.
She would have had smaller, more slender hands and fingers.
She never would have developed facial and chest hair at age 13. Hair that, years later, would require hundreds of hours of painful and expensive laser and electrolysis to remove.
If someone, anyone, back then had known and accepted what was going on...
I'll bet she could have been beautiful.
What do you remember from when you were 11?
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