GRABBING THE RING!
SALLY'S MOMMY MADE HIM DO IT
Okay, here is my story. I would stand and talk to my mommy when she was a young woman around 23; would sew all day at home for pleasure and for herself and the family. I would of been four or five. It was the mid '50's. I was such a mommy's boy, such a true sissy. I now, many years later, am very, very proud I was and still am. I loved being so sissy. I sewed (by hand) and had a doll house I adored that Mommy helped me with. She stood up for my feminine behavior to my father, who hated it, but was always fair and never said a word to me. I would later spend every morning talking to her from her bedroom door as she dressed. I would study her as she put on her girdle, hose and then, slip or petticoat. Then she would slide into her dress, fix her hair, which she always curled after washing the night before, taking out the sticky curlers (which are best) and then taking out the bobby pins that held the pin curls in place. Brushing out her hair was always so meaningful to me. It was so feminine - I wanted her to curl mine so badly. I would stay there, paying very close attention as she would finish by curling her eyelashes, and applying her makeup. I so wanted to be like her.
As time would pass I became aware I wasn't a real boy. I was a girly ultra sissy boy. I sometimes felt intimidated and scared of real boys. I hated sports, I loved to create but I was trapped.
One day, to my amazement, she decided that we were going to the school Halloween party. She was unaware now that I was eleven, that I adored everything girly and feminine. So much to my delight and horror, I was told that I was going to go as a girl. Sound familiar? Everything I am relating, for better or worse, is true. Well, as you well imagine, I did not want anyone to see me. I had been crossdressing for years when Mommy was away. Never caught, but looking back, I know she knew because she would keep all her feminine lingerie nearly folded a special way. This I so remember.
She was punishing me or testing me, I don't know which. But I donned the matching pencil skirt and jacket, and since my hair was (unfortunately) not long as a girl's might be, she put a cute hat of hers on my head and used a bobby pin to hold it to my hair. I was horrified. I also was in heaven. I wish I could live that day over. I am sure if I could that I would of gone up to her the next day and asked if I could wear another dress. I always will wish for that.
Now time passes, I crossdress often and am never caught. As I so thought. My mind remembers a really awesome experience when I was in high school. My parents were out of town. I was alone at home. I was going to take full advantage of this. I love, I mean adored petticoats (don't we all!), and I had no way to wear one as my mommy had gotten rid of them years ago, sadly. To compensate, I put on nearly every half slip and full slip I could find of my Mommy's. So on this day I wanted to be a teenage girl so, so badly. I curled my short hair with bobby pins, and I put on panties, many slips, and a really pretty pink gingham dress with a full skirt. I loved that dress - I wish I had it now. With my hair up to be curled, I wanted feel like totally girly girly girl. I wanted to be the ultimate sissy, so I put on a bouffant style hair dryer (pink of course) over my curled hair and cleared my skirt to sit so ever femininely in a green velvet tucked chair as my hair dried. I was in Girl Heaven.
More years pass, I am now 28 - it's 1978. My mommy had invited me to go along with her to Las Vegas. Just she and I. I was at the same time deciding that I wanted to trim my long hair that was shoulder length. But this time I was going to go to a beauty parlor. I wanted a girl's style. I had my hair done before we went; I had made up my mind I wanted to come out in the open with her. Mommy is very domineering, but I no longer wanted to argue and be antagonistic with her as I had been. I knew I would be giving her all the power over me. I knew she would use my vulnerabilities against me as she had done so often to others. She could be so nice and so cruel too . But I wanted to release my secret and my self to her control.
We went to Vegas. In TV Frontier Hotel I was having dinner with Mommy. I had drunk a bit to get my courage up . I went to the restroom and made up my mind to do it. I came back and sat down and we continued to talk.
I remember her saying, "You are just like your father." Well, that was my opening. I replied, "No, I am like my mother," I then said in a blurt and I should of been more tasteful. "What did you think when I was wearing all your dresses"
My mommy was shocked. Stunned. I should of been prepared better.
We talked for hours on end. But to my utter dismay, instead of thinking she would be greeting this with open arms, she was a little upset and taken aback. She used to tell me often how she wished I had been a girl. She would take my long blonde hair and fondles it, saying she wish she had my hair. I thought I was good to go. Well it wasn't quite like that.
She and I went back to the room we shared. I got up the next day and went for coffee. I found a drug store along the way and I bought a fashion and hairdo magazine for us to talk girl talk about; I also bought nylons. Later we went out together In pantyhose under my pants, Mommy said it would be too hot, but I was just fine. As we went walking downtown I told her I need some girl's underwear. We stopped at like a five and dime and we looked at some pretty wigs and then off to lingerie. I bought two pairs of panties and a half slip. Why I didn't buy a full slip I will never know. We eventually made our way back to our room. I took a bath and shaved my legs, put on my girl's undies and went out in my slip. I said, "I wish I had a skirt." My mommy was not happy, but was not mad. She eventually accepted me as a girl. And we talked for hours of girl talk things. I asked her to do for me the ultimate: I asked her to curl my hair. I was, and am to this day, so disappointed when she replied that she did not know how. I know she knew - she had set her own hair and her friend's hair for years. I was so let down. I told her all I wanted is for her to keep me in dresses. I told her how much I wanted to sew and wanted her to teach me. Later, before we left, we visited a dress shop and talked as a mother and daughter. We were never closer.
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