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Warp My Mind

by Janis_en_femme

Warp My Mind

By Janis_en_femme
The tale is autobiographical. It's how I changed my sexuality through hypnotic files merely because I was bored.
Hypnotic Files used: TrainCrossDress, CurseFeminizationCD, TrainFemGuy, CurseTotalFeminization.


Like so many others, I was bored. Unlike so many others, I warped my mind to relieve the boredom.
I’m in my 40s and I have a lovely wife that I deeply care for and love. I also have a boring job that I wish I didn’t. I drive. I drive a lot. Sometimes 20 to 30 minutes to get to a site to do my job. I’m a field technician so I spend most of my day driving from one location to another to do 15 minutes of work. Even the work itself is boring because I’ve been doing it for so long that it is mechanical.
So to relieve the boredom in my car, I listen to CDs I make or to interesting files I’ve downloaded to my MP3 player. The radio bores me too.
Well, years ago when I had a nice exciting job where I didn’t drive I downloaded a whole lot of mp3 sexual hypnotic files. They included feminization and lesbian files that I thought sounded like fun to listen to.
Like most guys, I’ve surfed the Internet and looked at she-males and such. I’ve gone to feminization and cross-dressing sites just to check them out. Merely out of curiosity. I never have an urge to wear women’s clothes. That must be understood of this story would be pointless.


In my 20s, when I was dating and screwing every woman I could, I tried wearing woman’s clothes, but felt foolish in doing so. You see, one night I won purple lingerie at a bar that was having a lingerie show. In the 1980s, they were very popular. Women would parade around in lingerie and sell tickets while flirting with the guys who were drinking. Well, I remember I won. It was a purple mesh bra and panties set. I got that because the model said anyone who could remove the garter without using his fingers or hands could keep it. I went up to her bent over and clenched the red and black feathered garter in my teeth. I slid it over her stocking leg and off her foot rather quickly. She was very impressed and gave me not only the garter, but also the lingerie she was wearing. The bra and panties set. No, she didn’t strip right there she went to the bathroom and changed into another set before handing me my prize.
I remember joking with my buddies about the lingerie. I couldn’t wait to find a woman to model it for me at my apartment. Well, I used all my charm and wit (combined with liquor-enhanced confidence) and hit on every woman at the bar that night.
I went home alone.
Feeling a bit down from my lack of success with the ladies, I removed my clothes to get ready for bed. I stood there naked, weaving a bit and gazed upon the lingerie. Curious, I slipped on the bra over my head and the panty up my legs. I remember they felt very constricting and scratchy. Not comfortable at all. I glanced in the mirror and it was not a pretty site at all. I took them off thinking, “Well, it least I know I’m not a cross dresser.” I proceeded to crawl into bed and sleep.
I woke up the next day. Stuffed the lingerie away in a drawer and never tried it on again.
Fast forward, 20 years. By now, I’ve had couple other jobs and a few girlfriends, one of which became my wife.


So like I said, I was bored and I had these files. They were from a web site called Warp My Mind. I downloaded them years ago when they were free. They included TrainSexWithWomen, TrainSexWithMen, TrainBisexual, PussyLover, TrainCumLover, TrainFemGuy, TrainCrossdresser, CurseFeminizationCD, TrainBimbo, TrainSlut, and TrigWomen.
I listened to them. The TrainSexWithWomen, TrainSexWithMen, TrainCumLover, and TrainSlut didn’t interest me. I only listened to them once. Now the TrainFemGuy, TrainCrossdresser, and CurseFeminizationCD I found very exciting for some reason. I would find myself getting hard just hearing the voice say things about wearing women’s clothes and becoming more feminine. I would be driving around with my cock hard and yearning to be free.
Once I was cruising along the highway and I started rubbing myself. At first, just a tender caress of my cock. Them brushing up and down. At midpoint of the TrainFemGuy files where the voice was talking about acting feminine and wanting men to hold doors open for you, I was fervently masturbating with my dick out of my pants. I could feel myself ready to explore. I became pumping harder as the voice talked about my newfound feminine desires and tastes. I finally came. At that point, I don’t remember what the voice was talking about I was just so relieved.
I arrived at the office where I had to fix the computer. I wiped myself off as best I could. Entered the office and asked to use the bathroom first. Not only to clean up, but to gather myself together.
Another time, I was crawling along in traffic, encountering a lot of traffic lights. Stop-and-go traffic is the worst for me. Bored me to tears. This time I was listening to the TrainCrossDress file. Like before, first it was the tender caress, then a gentle brush of my fingertips along the shaft of my cock. Soon, I was hard. Being in the midst of traffic, I couldn’t just start stroking myself with abandon. Very nonchalantly, I unzipped my fly and slid out my cock. I began pumping as the voice on the hypnotic file said how I now found men’s clothes constricting and scratchy (the same way I remember the purple lingerie being). The voice talked about wearing bras, panties, earrings, make-up “the whole thing.” Staring ahead, I rubbed myself more, Just moving my wrist so nobody in the other cars could see me. When the voice said, “awake and start your new change the change you accept,” I came. I remember being at a stoplight, trying to focus on the red stop light two cars ahead of me, and feeling my face flush as I ejaculated. Quickly calming down, I looked around to see if anyone noticed. To my left, a blonde woman in an SUV was staring at me. I don’t know if she knew what I was doing or not. I smiled at her. She turned around. I proceeded to clean myself up with my handkerchief. I had the handkerchief ready after my experience from the previous day.


Listening to the files when on for about a week. I didn’t feel any different except I wasn’t bored when driving anymore.
The weekend went along as usual. My wife and I ran errands, did a little shopping, and met with friends. For the first time, I enjoyed shopping. Now I never enjoyed shopping before. I especially hated shopping on a Saturday night. To me, Saturday nights were for going out to party or see a movie. Saturday nights were to be entertained and shopping was boring. But not this Saturday night. My wife and I walked around the mall and window-shopped. I had a blast. I just loved when we would stop at one of her favorite clothing shops. She would walk around examined blouses and purses. I was casually glancing over at the bra and panties and skirts.
The voice from Warp My mind was in my head saying how much fun women’s clothes are. I found myself wondering how they would feel. I wanted to feel the texture and softness of the bras. I was imagining rubbing my face with the panty. I was checking out the skirts and trying to guess which size would fit me. Lost in my musings, my wife gave me a gentle nudge to bring me back to reality.
She asked if anything was wrong. Realizing that I was holding a skirt, I said I was wondering what she would look like in it. She laughed and said it was too big for her. She selected a smaller size and went off to the dressing room. Like most wives, she handed me her purse before entering the dressing room.
I wandered over to the bra section and checked out the variety there.
I was back waiting for her before she got out. She strode out of the dressing room and stood in front of the mirror in the skirt I wanted to wear. I felt a twinge of jealousy.
She turned and asked my opinion. She jerked her head back for a second.
I said she looked lovely.
She said nothing, but just gave me this annoyed look.
I suddenly realized that I had slung her purse over my shoulder and was holding the strap like I’ve seen women do. The voice on the TrainFemGuy file said I would act as I’ve seen women act.
“Quit goofing around,” my wife said sharply. “You look ridiculous.”
I made a quick joke of it and slid the purse off my shoulder.
In my mind, I was freaking out. Not only was I shopping on a Saturday night and enjoying it, but also I started to act feminine without even realizing it.
My wife went back into the dressing room.
My mind was reeling. I was trying to remember if I did anything else that was feminine. The files did affect me and I wasn’t even aware of it. I had to make a conscious effort not to sling the purse over my shoulder again. At that point, I swore I was going to stop listening to those files.
My wife exited the dressing room and bought the skirt that I found so adorable. I remember thinking, “Too bad it’s in her size.” I hesitated and cleared my head of such unmanly thoughts. I definitely had to stop listening to those files.
The drive home was quiet. She was pissed because she thought I was mad about shopping on a Saturday night. I was just confused.
On Sunday, nothing much happened. My wife was over my “sulking.” I settled in to watch football. However, my mind kept on going back to the Warp My Mind files and the things the voice said. Was I really changing? Was I really becoming feminine? Would my wife realize it?
Tried as I could, I couldn’t get into the football game. In Fact, I was finding it boring. Strange, I always loved spending my Sundays watching football. Now I was thinking about going shopping. My mind drifted back to the voice, which said I would lose interest in sports.
I tried harder to enjoy the game, but couldn’t. I was easily distracted with what my wife was doing. She was doing her nails. Trimming them, cleaning them, polishing them. I watched every detail of it. I couldn’t keep my mind on the game. I couldn’t care less what the score was. In fact, I couldn’t remember who was playing.
Finally, I told my wife, that I was sorry about how I acted the night before.
“Let’s go shopping,” I said.
“What about the game,” she asked.
“I really want to make it up to you,” I said as I turned off the game.
We headed out the door to the mall. She with a grin. Me with a commitment to get rid of those files.


Monday was a momentous occasion. Although you couldn’t tell by the way the day began. I woke up and got ready for work.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to erase those files from my PDA on Sunday. I had spent the day with my wife and didn’t get on my home computer at all that day. Fortunately, I also had that software at work. So it was going to be the first thing I did when I got to the office. I drove off with a sense of purpose.
It is a good 20 to 30 minutes drive to work for me, depending on traffic.
Contemplating the events from the weekend, I set my PDA aside. I didn’t connect the earplugs to tempt me in any way. I had a very determined sense of what to I needed to accomplish when I got to work.
After driving about 15 minutes, I was bored again. Traffic was moving slow. Nothing of any interest was on the radio. I was in a hurry to get to work.
The other drivers on the highway were getting on my nerves. They were making me very edgy and irritable.
So I figured, “What the hell. I’ll listen to a couple of those files before I delete then for good.” I slipped in the earplugs on to kill time by listening to the cross dressing file. I was going erase soon anyway. So I figured I give it one last listen. No more harm could be done.
Something inside me seemed to relax. The voice seemed like a morning cup of coffee. I had this sense like some void had been filled.
After that, time passed quickly. In no time, I pulled into a parking space at work. Turning off my PDA, I got out of my car and practically ran into work.
Fortunately, I was the first one in. I quickly signed on, hooked up my PDA, and started deleting.
A sense of peace passed over me. I was saved.
But of course, the story doesn’t end there.

Now my workday could begin. Everything would be back to normal. I received my assignments, plan my routes, chatted with the guys, and drove off. In chatting with the other guys, I merely listened to what happened on the football games. Everyone had an opinion, so no one noticed that I didn’t contribute mine. Dodged that bullet.
Now, I was driving to my first assignment. It was a school, about a 20-minute drive from the office. I turned on the radio and planned my day. I had work to pre-occupy me so I didn’t miss the files.
On the way to the school, I passed a Walgreen’s. An idea struck me. But first, I had to fix the computer at that school. Then I could go back if I wanted to.
I remember I was in a hurry to get to the school. I arrived there and repaired the laptop. I was rather fidgety. I had a bit of a hard time focusing on what I was doing. Strange, I had done this so often before.
I finally finished and drove back to Walgreen’s. I went in and got some money from the ATM.
Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the cosmetic section of the store. In my mind’s eye, I was spinning around, looking at everything. I was thrilled. I had this tingling, tickling sensation going from my stomach to my groin. I walked around gazing upon, eye shadow, compacts, nail polish, lipstick, lip liner, eyeliner, and other things I wasn’t even familiar with at the time. I wanted to try them on. I wanted to see what would make me look good. I wanted a makeover. I wanted to know what all of them were for and how it would feel against my skin and how it would look on me.
I was amazed at the selection too. The colors! All those lovely colors. I never noticed this section before and I now felt like I was missing something by never wandering around here before. My mind was dizzy with excitement and anticipation. The kid in the candy store analogy would fit well here. I was lost in my thoughts of applying makeup and trying out the various colors as I was drinking in deeply the perfumed aroma of the cosmetic section.
Suddenly, a voice shocked me out of my merriment. It was the clerk, an elderly, kind-looking woman smiled at me.
“May I help you?”
“I’m just picking something up for my wife.”
“Anything in particular?”
“Lipstick. Red lipstick,” I blurted out. I wanted to add, it’s for my wife, not me, but I held back. That would be a foolish thing to say. It would be a give-away if I did.
She walked me over to the lipstick section. An entire wall filled with different brands, colors, and styles. I saw Revlon. I could see that it was a deep red color. I reached out and plucked it out.
“This is the one she wants,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
She walked me over to the counter as I gripped my new lipstick. My new red lipstick.
She rang it up. I paid for it. She dropped it into a white, plastic bag. I left.
I got in my car and opened the bag to retrieve my prize. Tearing off the plastic, I placed my lipstick in my jacket pocket. Then I placed it on the seat next to me.
It felt so dangerous, almost sinful. It was thrilling and daring.
I couldn’t put it on because I had more calls to make. I was dying to though.
I found this so thrilling, so exhilarating.
I kept on glancing over to my lipstick, aching to rub it on my lips.
When I came to red lights, I would play with it. I’d pop off the top and twist the bottom slowly sometimes, quickly sometimes. I was entranced how it would spiral out of its tube and pirouette back down inside.
It was mine, not my wife’s, not my mother’s, not my sisters’. It was mine for my use only. All mine.
You see, the idea that struck me earlier was if I bought a tube of lipstick, I wouldn’t keep on thinking about the files. It worked. I was now focused on my ruby red lipstick.
Something inside of me was at peace and thrilled at the same time. I could feel myself breathing and my heart pumping. I was alive and tingling with anticipation. I couldn’t wait to get home.
The rest of the day was a mix of blurs and clarity. I did my jobs quickly. I made an unusual amount of errors because I was rushing so much. In fact, I had to go back to one of the job sites because I forgot to do something. I was very angry with the client because all I could think of was how he was preventing me from going home to put on my new lipstick.
Finally, I had such an overwhelming urge, this desire to try on my lipstick that I looked for a secluded area. I found a forest preserve. I drove into the parking lot. There were a couple of cars there. I pulled out and drove about a mile until I found a forest preserve with a vacant parking lot.
I parked. Popping off the top of the tube, I gave a gentle twist, and actually sniffed the lipstick. Using my rear view mirror, I applied my lipstick as I saw many women in my life do. Across the bottom and half way on one side of the top and the other top half to fill it in.
Suddenly, I realized I had a raging hard-on. My cock was trying to burst through my zipper. The zipper was hurting.
I tried to compose myself. I couldn’t.
I stepped out of my car. I paraded around the forest preserve wearing my ruby red lipstick. I felt the wind in my hair. I listened for any approaching cars. I felt free!!!
Eventually, my erection subsided, but the thrill did not
I slid back into my car and wiped off my lipstick with some napkins I had stashed away.
I was able to finish my workday with some relative peace of mind and calm.
Finally, I was on my way home. Fortunately my wife wouldn’t be home, so I could put on my lipstick again.
Another problem presented itself. I wanted to be able to see the lipstick when I put it on. Not just by standing at the mirror.
I spotted another Walgreen’s and cruised in. The first thing my eyes settled on when the doors shut behind me was a whole row of make-up. Several compacts hung within my reach. Not wanting to look suspicious, I glanced at them and then away.
How I wanted to carefully inspect each and every one of them.
I felt that tingly excitement again. I snatched a dark blue tortoise shell compact by Cover Girl. Trying to walk calmly to the cashier, I felt my legs get weak. I gazed around to see if anyone was staring at me. With all this churning inside me, no one was noticing me.
Here I was embarking on cross-dressing and I was invisible. The thought of completely dressing as a woman and safely shopping crossed my mind. I quickly put it out of my mind. How ridiculous, I thought. This is just to get those hypnotic files off my mind. This feeling that I should wear women’s clothes will fade away.
Once again I took a deep breath and wore my best poker face.
The cashier, a lovely little thing wearing a pink sweater and a little-too-tight jeans, rang up my purchase without a second glance.
I was relieved and a bit disconcerted. Why did I was I more concerned with what the young lady was wearing than how she was built?
One of the files said that I would notice things like what women wore and how they acted, but not in a sexual way.
I didn’t remember which one. They were beginning to blur together.
I had to get home and get this out of my system.
I don’t remember how long the drive was. It seemed too long.
I parked into my garage and practically jumped out of my car.
I clicked open my compact (I had already released it from its packaging while driving home) and gazed at my unadorned lips.
Once again, I went through my ritual. I popped off the top. Turned the bottom of the tube and admired how the ruby red lipstick spiraled up. I swear I could smell a faint aroma emanating from the lipstick. I applied the lipstick to my lower lip. Then I gently slid it across half of my upper lip and across to the other side of my upper lip.
My cock was so hard that I had to quickly unzip my pants with one hand without letting go of my lipstick.
Admiring my red lips in my compact mirror, I puckered my lips. I made an O-shape. I took the pad and powered my cheeks and chin.
My cock needed relief but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from my lips’ reflection.
I laid on my stomach on my bed. My pants flew off. Grabbing a pillow, I shoved it between my legs.
I positioned myself on my stomach with my cock inside the pillowcase and the compact mirror balanced on another pillow in front of mirror. I pursed my lips again and again as I furiously pumped my pillow.
When I came (moments later), I watched my rudy-red-lipsticked lips let out an orgasmic groan of sexual relief. My mind reeled at the sensation of tiny needles prickling the lower half of my body. I felt content as if I fulfilled some promise I made.
Then it hit me.
I just jerked off because I was wearing make-up. What was happening to me?
Granted, I was bothered by this, but it was undeniably fun. I wanted to do it again, but my wife would be home in a couple of hours.
I quickly stashed my lipstick and compact in a cup and placed it high on a shelf that I know she would never reach.
I took off the pillowcase and with the rest of the bed sheets tossed them in the washing machine. I wiped off my cum from the pillow.
Needless to say, my wife was pleasantly surprised at my initiative to start laundry without her urging.
Was this another feminine trait emerging? I wondered.

The next day began as normal as possible except I had lipstick in my pocket. The previous night was restless for me. I had come to terms with my wearing lipstick, but I was missing something. I don’t know what it was. I had this feeling that I should be doing something or that I forgot something.
On my ride to work, I realized what it was. I connected my earphones into my PDA and listened. I was becoming very agitated to whatever I listened to. Music or talking voices on the radio only served to frustrate me. I needed to hear something else. I needed to hear those damn hypnotic files again. I wanted to be soothed with those words of how I would love to wear women’s clothes, how I would act so effeminate, and how I would embrace femininity to the point it would affect my body. I was addicted to those files. I needed those files with that voice droning on about becoming a woman and enjoying it.
I rushed to work and re-loaded my PDA with those files. Instead of preparing for my workday, I dashed into the bathroom at work and listened to my TrainCrossDress mp3. Tension just drained from my body.
I was addicted to these hypnotic files and I didn’t care anymore.
Needless to say, I listened to them all day as I drove around going from job site to job site.
I wasn’t going to fight it. I enjoyed it too much. And I wasn’t bored.
Thoughts of womanhood flitted about in my brain.
Having a man hold a door open for me seemed natural, just as the TrainFemGuy file said it would.
The end of my workday neared. My next step into cross-dressing began.
Now I would buy a pair of panties. This would be daring, probably revealing.
I drove to a near-by shopping mall. It was the only place I knew of where to buy some sexy panties. Yes, I went to Victoria’s Secret.
I calmly strode in. Inwardly, I was all a-twitter like some nervous bride looking for that special something for the wedding night. Outwardly, I maintained a quiet reserve, with a how-much-will-this-cost-me attitude.
I stalked my prey. Walking around the various piles of lingerie, I chose my area. My first panties would have to be pink. Definitely pink and soft, but not silk. Satin. Yes, satin.
What size?
Large or extra-large.
I decided on large, just so they might be tight.
I pondered the lace and the things. I touched the silk and the satin with great reverence.
I could feel my legs turn to jelly again, when a young lady in a low-cut light green dress asked if she could help me. I softly declined saying that I wasn’t sure what my wife would like.
The sales clerk gave me a wry smile. She knew it was for me. I overplayed my hand.
“Let me know if there is anything I can do to help?” she smirked.
I wanted to just leave and forget about it, but I grabbed this pair of pink satin panties with black lace and bows.
“I’ll take this.”
“Excellent choice. I’m sure your wife will enjoy them.”
She paraded over to the cash register and rang up the sale. The panties were $12. I never checked the price and almost choked when she told me how much.
She mentioned that I could join the store’s club for special deals on lingerie.
“No, thanks,” I said and dashed out of the store.
Damn, I thought, it was too close to home. I’d had to shop somewhere further next time.
I hadn’t even thought of a next time until that moment.
Was becoming a full-fledged cross-dresser?
My anxiety was calmed with the thought that at least I didn’t buy a bra.
As long as I didn’t wear a bra, I was fine. I still held a firm grip on my manhood.
I stopped off and picked up some perfume at one store and blue eye shadow at another.
Now, there was a sense of completion.
When I got home it was pretty much the same thing. I stripped and slid on the pink panties. Next the make-up and perfume were applied.
All the time, my hard cock was sticking out of my panties, aching to be stroked.
This time, I had another pillow and pillowcase all set.
I pumped hard and furiously. I humped that pillow as I watched my red lips pursed and inhaled in my perfume. My blue eye shadow looked trashy, which turned me on even more. I was shoving my cock between that pillowcase and pillow with all my might.
I could feel my shaft rubbing against the material.
I could sense my cockhead becoming engorged.
My cock was throbbing. I gripped the sides of my bed, Nails digging into the mattress.
I came!
I came with a groan escaping through my ruby red lips and drool dripping from the side of my lipsticked mouth.
It was animalistic and primal.
I laid there wondering what had become of me.
I laid there wondering what my next step would be.
I know I would be listening to those files again and again.
More changes were in store for me.


I continued to listen to those hypnotic files. I tried out the TrainBisexual, CurseHormoneChange, and PussyLover. The first two scared me. After all, I was married and I do love my wife. I wanted nothing to change in my relationship with her. So that’s why I listened to the TrainBisexual and CurseHormoneChange files only once and the Pussy Lover hypnotic file three times. I couldn’t let my boredom have any outward effect.
My three favorites that I listened to all the time were TrainCrossDress, TrainFemGuy, and CurseTotalFeminization.
The more I listened, the more I relaxed and began accepting any changes that came my way.
I took to wearing my lipstick whenever I was driving. Part of the fun for me is applying my lipstick so it was absolutely no bother to wipe it off, work at a job site, and re-apply it before driving off. It was something I read at the Bimbo Sanctuary.
Every day I would race home before my wife. Don my panties, pantyhose, and make-up. I would masturbate, humping my pillow so I could gaze upon my lips and eye shadow.
But it wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed information that I knew I couldn’t get from my wife.
I started searching for web sites to act as a sort of guide. I found Bimbo Sanctuary. I registered under a fake name so it could not be traced back to me. I read about other men who were cross-dressers and transgender. Many posts discussed hypnotism, clothing, and make-up, which I found extremely informative.
I reveled in my discovery.
Now I sat at my computer learning and enjoying images of men being feminine. I was in heaven.
For days, this went on.
Listening to those three hypnotic files while driving around and reading about the cross-dressing community when at home.
One day, I hurried home. After parking my car in the garage, I exited my car. I swung out my legs and slid off the car seat in a very dainty manner. I hesitated momentarily, unsure if it was just my imagination.
Shaking it off, I skipped down the stairs into my house. It was sort of a mincing prancing that I did down those steps that I plodded along several times before. I realized there was absolutely nothing masculine in my stride anymore.
Stunned, I leaned again the wall for support. Had I been doing that all day? Did I just start? Had these changes been subtle?
I quickly changed. It was almost a ritual now. Sliding on my pantyhose then my panties. Next my lipstick and eye shadow. The final touch was my perfume.
I sat down at my computer to check the latest at Bimbo Sanctuary.
As I hit the keys for My Favorites, I tapped Bimbo Sanctuary.
Suddenly, I noticed my elbow resting on my desk with my hand dangling. I was unconsciously limp-wristed. I was sitting with my legs together and limp-wristed like a woman.
My mind was reeling now. I was frightened. When the words, “Oh, my god” come out of my mouth, I immediately straightened up.
The sound of my own masculine voice shocked me. The voice in my head had become decidedly feminine. The files had taken total control of me. I truly began thinking of myself as a woman.
I had been studying women without even realizing it at first. Watching how they move and sat and dressed, just like the files said I should. I wasn’t interested in them sexually. I began assuming feminine characteristics like I was supposed to do.
I began to cry. Weeping like a woman. I felt it was the final straw.
But it wasn’t.
I knew what the final straw was. There was no turning back.
I gathered myself together and sashayed into my bedroom. I began searching through my wife’s dresser drawers.
I examined her various lingerie and finally came upon the drawer that held her bras.
I gazed upon the beige ones, the red ones, the black ones and the white ones. I chose a white one. I checked out the size, 34 – C.
I wasn’t nervous like I was at the stores. I didn’t feel jittery. I was resigned to my fate, but a little pleased with my wife’s taste.
Like I had seen her do many times before, I placed the cups behind me and hooked the bra. I slid it around and put one arm through one strap and the other through the other. Normally, I probably would have been worried at how deftly I did it, but it was almost natural at this point. I studied my wife and performed this several times in my head unconsciously.
The bra actually felt comfortable. It felt glorious, in fact. And I was sporting another hard-on to prove it.
But I wasn’t done. I found some sweat socks to stuff the bra. Just a couple in each in cup.
My God, I didn’t look beautiful, but I felt so wonderfully female.
My cock didn’t detract from my feminine appearance. It pushed forth from my panties and pantyhose like it was making its last stand of masculinity.
I couldn’t hold back. I began jerking off right there in front of my wife’s dresser and mirror.
I stroked and stroked with one hand and kneaded my boobs with the other. I stole furtive glances at myself in the mirror.
I don’t know if it was seconds or minutes, but I exploded. My cum shot onto her dresser and down my pantyhose. My legs gave way and I collapsed to the floor, quivering with orgasmic relief.
I had finally crossed over to cross-dressing. My transformation was complete.
Of course, I eventually recovered and cleaned up the cum. I returned the bra to my wife’s drawer with plenty of time to spare.
That night, my wife caught a glimpse of my feminine self. Instead of watching a football game, I watched the cable channel, Lifetime, with her. I had always referred to Lifetime as “The Chick Channel.” Now I was engrossed as we watched the romantic woes of a heroine and her beloved. I held back tears as my wife wept in my arms.
I don’t even remember which one it was, because we have watched so many of them since that night.


The next day was momentous. I bought my first bra. I had no qualms anymore. I was a cross-dresser and there was no reason the pretend I wasn’t. I just couldn’t let any one know.
During my driving, I walked into a Walgreen’s and bought a bra. This time I chose a 38 – D. I stopped at another one and bought a 40 – D. I cruised into several and bought a variety. I wanted to see which one I liked.
Finally I got home.
I put on my panties, pantyhose, and make-up. Now for the coup-de-grae. I tried on one bra after another. Modeling each in one before the bedroom mirror. It was delightful.
I spun around like a high fashioned model. I walked up and down a pretend walkway. I shook my boobs like a stripper.
Now that I finally accepted my feminization, I had no trouble with flaunting my femininity in the mirror.
Again, I was no beauty queen, but I felt divinely female (even with a raging hard-on trying to poke its way through my wife’s skirt).
Oh yes, I squeezed into one of my wife’s largest skirts and lowest cut blouse. I found a wonderful set of high heels that actually fit quite nicely.
I posed as a coquette, a slut, a hooker, a prim-and-proper sort, a cock tease and devout church-goer. I had such fun now that I relinquished myself over to my feminine side.
I had surrendered myself to feminization and my wife hasn’t even noticed. If she has, she hasn’t said anything. She’s says she’s enjoying my sensitivity.
I found that I could buy clothes without anyone giving me a second glance. They just assumed I’m buying them for my wife. Plus, I always get a gift receipt so I can exchange without a problem. I bought and exchanged several skirts to find the right size. Girdles and panties presented no problem. I even picked up a lovely black purse because it went with everything I owed.
All my feminine clothes and make-up are hidden in my gym bag. They fit quite nicely and my wife never goes in it.
Another thing I learned from the Bimbo Sanctuary was wearing my lingerie under my male clothes at work. It has been a lifesaver. Like the file said would happen to me, my male clothes were becoming constricting and uncomfortable.
So I wake up before my wife, shower, shave and put on my bra and panties. And I’m set for the day.

I finally got up the nerve to buy a pair of high heels. By trying on my wife’s shoes I was able to determine that I wear a 10 ½ in women’s shoes.
Again I experienced the same thrill of buying feminine apparel. I walked up and down the women’s shoes aisles in a few shoe stores. I finally selected a pair of navy blue pumps with a three-inch heel.
Although externally I remained calm, I was doing back flips internally.
I raced home and dressed up. I tried on my new shoes.
Now I read many stories in which a man tries on a pair of high heels for the first time and stumbles around.
I didn’t. I strutted around my house like I was born into high heels. I walked up and down stairs, across a wooden floor and the carpet, without a problem. I loved hearing the clicking of the heels against the floor.
Maybe it was because I had been subconsciously studying women or just my natural femininity, but I had no problem walking in heels. My steps were shorter and much lighter than my male stride.
I have bought three more pairs of shoes, - another pair of navy pumps (in a smaller size), black sandals, and a pair of red 4-inch high heels.
I’m constantly finding myself checking out women’s shoes when I go to an office. I try to follow them so I can watch them watch in their shoes. I really have developed a love of shoes when I’m a woman. I have more pairs of shoes now as a woman than I do as a man.

A wig is the only thing I have left to buy. The only thing for my final step to complete my feminization.
All in all, I think the whole cross-dressing/feminization process through hypnosis took a little more than a month. Just one or two days more, if that. Maybe that’s why my wife didn’t noticed. For her, my change was gradual.
For me and my files, it seemed to have been a lifetime. I still listen to them to keep from being bored.
Well, I hope this story didn’t bore you. Because boredom can lead you down some strange paths.

Comments are welcomed and encouraged at janis_en_femme@yahoo.com


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