I was thinking earlier how much easier it is to cross dress these days. Years ago, stuff had to be ordered from catalogues etc and stuff like tights had to be buried in the weekly shop. Nowadays, guys can rummage around in the Ladies section of Primark and even try stuff on and hardly anyone will be fazed by it. That’s nice and let’s face it, we dress because we like it, if others like it too, it’s a bonus. The cloth itself has no gender so why should the finished article? For years I thought it was some sort of weird sexual fetish that I suffered from but when I came out in this group, I realised that it’s just that I’m , like all of us here, a little different in my preferences. Life is too short to be shackled. X

Each time i see this photo of mine, I feel like waiting for something big and hard. I want to be honest.

Shameless ... They call me shameless Shameless Kate Who's wildly walk the street Who has no skirt over her tights And bluches cheeks in pink... Yes I am walking Simply sans Sans shame And sans barriers... Some men are trying Steeet romance To offer one night Stand... And women put sad eyes away To hide some interest... Kate lost her touch She lost her taste And often She's madly strange ... Kate came to Earth from Io's space... One Fairy Lady asked me once What I have lost in past I answered I lost my pants My dress and wish to Love... She whispered me known words My Granny taught to me once: "You're Allien My dear girl And this is Pure fact... Word "boy" was only Coverup to hide your roots and past ... Remember Io Little girl The only place with Love... And if the acid rain begins Get rid of cotton dress And stay in tights However think With anger or impressed... ... Until you learn To hide your Love Be opened and undressed And never mind What other think... They are no interest... My little girl It's worth to fall To learn how Nice is flight... And when you landed Loosing skirt Just walk Not shy With pride... You're never looking For Earth sex It's hard to find true Love Just walk, Don't look aside or back Just walk your own Path...

Modelling my recently bought black knickers. Unfortunately hard to hide your tackle in crotchless ones! Ha ha 🤣

I wnt a new job. Hard work is 2 much lol. Sxy Secretary any1? Msg me legs up or down n Ill send u wat I cnt show u lmaoooo

Santa & Mrs. Claus: Threeway at the North Pole Continued: I was too nervous to answer but nodded. "Good," he exclaimed, "now its my turn. Ho, ho, ho!" With that, Santa took his clothes off, exposing his huge, rock hard, wrinkly magical dick that I knew so well, knew so intimately. He walked over to the bed, grabbed my head from the back of it, and forced us to kiss, his tongue exploring my throat. His free hand felt down my chest and tummy, down to my naked crotch where he pulled on my cock. "I see you're ready," he commented. I could see out of the corner of my eye Mrs. Claus feeling herself up and down, moaning. She fingered her own pussy... Santa then bent down and put my penis into his mouth. He sucked me off...slurping....licking my shaft., squeezing the head with his lips, shaking it with his hand...I was already so aroused that it didn't take me long to cum and fill his mouth up. Santa swallowed it all...smiling, moaning, saying "yum!" and, of course, "ho, ho, ho!" "Get on your hands and knees," the jolly old elf, Santa, demanded. I did, my bare-naked ass now exposed upward at him like a dog in heat presenting herself to a mate. Santa mounted me and like last Christmas, slamming his huge, magical dick into my tight, little boypussy hole doggy-style, making me his. Mrs. Claus came up to the side of the bed and then crawled under me to where she could put her mouth around my cock. So as Santa Claus fucked my ass Mrs. Claus was sucking my dick. When Santa climaxed, seeding me with his semen, I came too, almost choking Mrs. Claus with my boyjuice, who was able to swallow all of it. Santa layed on the bed next to me, his fat, hairy arms around my skinny, smooth ladyboy body, Mrs. Claus layed on the other side next to me, her wrinkly but feminine arms also around me. "I wish you would touch me like that Santa, as you touch Chrissy," Mrs. Claus said, making me uncomfortable. "Ho, ho, ho!" Answered Santa. "It's okay, We have Chrissy now." What did that mean? That I was to continue satisfying both of them? "Not for very long," I added. "Just until I am able to get home." "That will be at least a year," Mrs. Claus commented. I sat up more in shock. "A year? Why?" "No one leaves Santa's Village but Santa and that is only on Christmas Eve." said Mrs. Claus. "And since this Christmas Eve is over, you'll have to wait until next year," Santa added. "I can't wait until next year! I got a life to get back to. People will miss me!" "I'm sorry, Chrissy, but we just don't have any way of getting you home otherwise." "You can't just take me anytime? Have an elf fly the sleigh?" "If people saw Santa's sleigh flying around on any other night than Christmas Eve that would be a scandal." "But a whole year!" "You're not a prisoner. You can walk away anytime. But this is the North Pole. You won't get very far." said Mrs. Claus. "And I couldn't bear to see my baby boy get hurt again." She kissed me on the forehead, while groping my cock, as she said this. "But you have it good here. Free food and board...a warm bed...hot cocoa...and Mrs. Claus and I to sexually satisfy you, ho, ho, ho!" Santa said. "All you have to do for a year is relax and enjoy great sex. Ho, ho, ho!" "And the elves can have a break, Santa," Mrs. Claus said. "Well, we'll see about that. Chrissy is hot and all, but I do like my little elves," said Santa, "ho, ho, ho!" "But not me..." Mrs. Claus said sadly. "Oh, honey, I do love you," Santa said. "But yes, I need something else sexually. Heck, half the reason I took the job I do on Christmas Eve was to be able to fuck so many different people. Like Chrissy! Ho, ho, ho!" Santa grabbed my face again and kissed me, saying, "don't worry. You'll like it here. Ho, ho, ho!" Mrs. Claus grabbed my dick again and got close to me too, whispering, "I guarantee it." And that was my experience with Santa and Mrs. Claus. Ho, ho, ho!

Santa & Mrs. Claus: Threeway at the North Pole Continued: She jumped up and down on my ****, as she was doing that I was massaging her boobs. Then I sat up and kissed her, we exchanged tongues and sucked on each other's lips as I groped her backside. Her age was far from my mind. I was able to force her on to her back on my bed so I could top her. It has been way too long since I was in that position over anyone, especially a woman. It felt so good to be the dominant alpha, the one in control, for a change. Normally I am very submissive and only receive...again, being treated like a girl. And I could tell Mrs. Claus was enjoying it, too. The moans, cries, screams, and yells and other sounds she was making, plus the huge smile on her face, told me she was in Heaven. I plowed her over and over....the bed was shaking back and forth as I thrusted into her again and again...getting deeper each time...her old but wet ***** felt like a moist velvet glove around my rock hard penis and I wanted very much to seed her and leave my DNA in her. I was going to conquer Santa's wife, Mrs. Claus! "Ho, ho, ho!" Just then we heard that now familiar and loud, hearty laugh come from outside the room. "Damn!" Exclaimed Mrs. Claus. "Santa is home! He's early!" I didn't climax, but pre-cum did leak into her vag as I asked, "what do we do?" She pushed me off her and got up, fixing herself. "Cover yourself back up," Mrs. Claus instructed. "Try to look innocent." I did. Just then Santa walked in. Again, looking like the stereotypical Santa from every commercial and holiday movie or story. "What is going on here?" he demanded. "We found Chrissy hurt after a bad crash and brought him back her to recoup," Mrs. Claus explained. "Chrissy?" Santa asked with a smile, obviously reminiscing about the time he fucked me. He then saw me laying in bed. "CHRISSY!" he then yelled joyfully. "Ho, ho, ho! Imagine you being here! Ho, ho, ho!" We were able to relax now knowing how happy Santa was. "Did Mrs. Claus take good care of you?" Santa asked me..

(For those that can Read) No Time To Waste A CD that I've been chatting with for some time got in touch and asked if I had time to pop over for a very quick visit, he only had a 40 minutes window of opportunity. We were both on the no mess side of fun in both ways, we knew it was all about pleasure and I made sure it was also about Feeding. With a short 40 minutes window I knew I would have to be ready when I arrived at his place, my lingerie was on under my Joggers, I made is as simple as possible, Stocking Tights, Sheer Thong, Tight Black matching lace Crop top under my Hoodie, that just left my Stilettos in my bag of guddies. I arrived at his at the exact time, 9:30am and he let me in, I could see he was also dressed ready under his robe, oddly enough he went for a Bodystocking with Thong and Stilettos also in black, while removing our normal clothing we chatted more and agreed to just get on with it. We stood in the living room and I bent over and pulled his Thong down and off, like me if he is cold or nervous his co ck starts off very small, I love this bit, because just for a little moment I can get all his Sacks and Co ck in my mouth in one, rolling them round giving them a good sucking and gentle stretch, this only lasted a couple of minutes before he started to get hard, at this point he got me up and removed my Thong and pushed me onto the sofa, grabbed my knees in each hand, spread me wide and sucked me in exactly the same way, a few minutes later I was solid, he then got me up and took me into the bedroom where he got on the bed, lay down lifted his legs back and spread ready, I climbed on top and placed my arms in front of each leg holding them back, sliding down ready to work my Feeding Stick in front of me, he had reached round to my legs which I spread either side of his head (69) our favourite feeding position, he pulled my legs apart a little more until I was already in his mouth, he wasted no time at all in starting his extraction, me also, dropping down onto his valve, working it best I could, I loved being on top as you always seem to get more co ck to suck, but when Feeding I prefer to be underneath so I get every drop. He was really going for it on my Feeding Stick, he knew my weekness, putting his lips just behind my head, sucking 2 or 3 inches back and forth up and down my shaft, tight as he could, I knew his weakness was his sensitive Co ck Head, so I sucked extra on his head between shaft slides, then back to his head again, I could tell he was doing better than me as only about 15 minutes had gone when I was getting close, he knew it too, sucking faster and tighter, in my excitement I got faster too, I shot my little load into his mouth which went down instantly, he kept sucking till he had every drop, I quickly said swap, and we rolled over, so his Feeding Stick was now in my mouth, I carried on from underneath sucking on his head and shaft, a few minutes later he started to moan, I knew my gift was on its way, my gift of food for my hard work, I was so thankful when his shaft started to pulsate and pump, he filled my mouth twice, I felt quite bad that I could not give him as much... After I extracted every drop and thanked him for his generous deposit, he got ready for work and I left for home, ready for my next feed....

Wife asleep, Patti came out for a minute, I love this pink dress, I haven’t worn it in a while. Not much Patti time here lately , it suck not having Patti time because it hard to keep her inside, I do wear panties and sometimes lingerie under my clothes, I hope everybody has girly time too enjoy being who you really are, love you all Patti

Im so obsessed with my favourite dress! 💗💗 looking at it and gently feeling around it and pressing my boner into the huge full skirt is heaven! Its hard not to cum in myself when doing it! 🍆💗

Christmas is cumming! Here is a traditional Christmas story! lol : It happened last Christmas Eve. Snow whispered against my window, blanketing the world in a serene hush as I drifted off under layers of warmth. The soft glow of the Christmas lights outside painted gentle colors on my walls, blending with the lace and satin of the red lingerie I had on. A sudden thud on the roof jolted me awake. My heart raced as I strained to hear more, the sound of bells jingling faintly and what could only be the sneeze of an animal carried through the stillness. I sat up, clutching my blankets closer. Moments later, a creak echoed from downstairs, like footsteps crossing the living room floor. Still groggy but alert, I reached for my phone, ready to call for help if needed. Peering cautiously into the hallway, I heard a deep, hearty laugh resonate through the house. “Ho, ho, ho!” The voice was unmistakable, rich and warm, and yet impossible. Santa? No, it had to be some burglar pulling a strange stunt. My skepticism flared as I crept down the stairs, each step measured and quiet. When I reached the living room, I froze. The space was bathed in a soft, unearthly glow, and standing before the tree was a man who looked every bit the part of Santa Claus—velvet red suit, snowy white beard, and a twinkle in his eye that seemed almost magical. He was munching on the cookies I’d left out as a joke, milk in hand. "What the fuck are you doing?" I yelled indignant. The man turned around to look at me. "Watch your language, Chrissy," he scolded me gently. "You're already on my naughty list." "How did you know my name?" "Ho, ho, ho! I know everything about you, including when you're sleeping and when you are awake. I'm Santa!" "Santa isn't real!" "So you don't believe your eyes?" "You're just some thug dressed up as Santa." "Ho, ho, ho! Look up at the roof and tell me how a thug got a magical sleigh and a team of magical, flying reindeer. Ho, ho, ho!" I didn't have to look, the noise I heard on my roof earlier lined up perfectly with that of reindeer. "But...but...you're not real." I stuttered. "Chrissy, I'm as real as you want me to be. And you have been naughty. Ho, ho, ho!" "If that's true," I challenged. "Why are you in my home?" "Ho! Ho! Ho! Because I love naughty boys, I give them a big gift! Ho! Ho! Ho!" With that he unbuckled his black broad buckled belt and unzipped his red pants. Out jumped his huge, wrinkled, snow-white penis, uncut of course with lots of foreskin, and it was hard and long. There was pre-cum already dripping from it. Santa winked at me then said, "cum get your gift, Chrissy. Ho! Ho! Ho!" Being the naughty ladyboy femboy slut I am, I complied and fell to my knees in front of Santa. I grabbed his rock-hard cock and squeezed it while placing my lips around it. It was so salty, vinegary, wet and sticky. His manjuices were already leaking into my mouth as I sucked on him. slurp slurp slurp I stroked his dick as I sucked, then started fucking him with my mouth...going up and down, up and down on his penis...my tongue would lick the tip and shaft at times. Santa's dick started to swell and throb...but he pushed my head away. "Ho, ho, ho! He said, "I finish in naughty boy's ass." (Continued in next post) #sissy #femboy #transgender #gurl #sissyboy #tgirl #CD #crossdresser #crossdressing #transgirl #transwoman #adultcontent #nsfw

Teaser - Girl friends. I think you will find the next photos I post to be truely amazing. They will be me 10+ years ago at 137 pounds. My lowest weight since HS. Problem is it took me an entire year to lose the weight and only about 6 months to regain most of it back. Because I run and swim a lot it is hard for me to diet so much and still have energy to do those activities. More Tomorrow. 🥰

Big hard long

Spot the difference. With or without it’s a hard choice!

Dressed for the day...will be hard to focus on getting anything useful done... 💋

Good evening sweets! I'm off to work. But thought I'd leave you with a story. More: http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/ #crossdresser #sissy #sissyboy #crossdressers #sissies #shemale #ladyboy #femboy #femman #femboys #crossdressing #gurl #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transgender #tgirl #gay #lgbtq #nsfw #adultsonly #adultcontent Chrissy on the Hillcrest Bus The bus hissed as it opened its doors on University Avenue, right in the heart of Hillcrest, San Diego’s famous gay neighborhood. I climbed aboard, heart racing a little faster than usual. On the outside I was in my “boy clothes” — plain pants, a simple shirt — but underneath I was my secret self: Chrissy Marie Tunnell. Pink floral panties hugged my smooth hips, a matching bra cupped my chest, and tiny flashes of trans-colored jewelry — a ring, a dangling earring — shimmered in the afternoon light. I wasn’t fully comfortable living openly as a girl yet, but I loved leaving little clues for anyone observant enough to notice. As I walked down the aisle, I felt eyes on me. One man’s gaze dropped to where the pink waistband of my panties peeked above my pants. Another tilted his head just enough to catch the faint outline of my bra straps beneath the thin cotton of my shirt. My jewelry glinted when the bus jolted, and I knew they’d seen the colors. Their eyes followed me hungrily as I slid into a seat halfway down. Even the bus driver, watching through the mirror, licked his lips and adjusted in his chair. “Hey…” one man finally said, his voice a mix of awe and lust. “You’re Chrissy… the trans model, aren’t you?” My cheeks burned, but I gave a shy smile. “Yes.” A low whistle came from the back. “Damn. You should take those clothes off.” I laughed nervously, shaking my head. “I can’t here…” Then the driver’s voice, gravelly but warm, floated down the aisle: “It’s okay. I won’t say anything.” His eyes met mine in the mirror, daring me. A shiver ran through me. My body trembled with a mix of nerves and arousal as I stood up slowly, the bus swaying beneath my feet. I grabbed the metal pole for balance, slipped off my shirt one button at a time, and slid my pants down my thighs. Gasps and murmurs spread as I revealed my pink bra and panties, smooth legs, and the bulge already straining with need. “Goddamn…” someone whispered. I posed for them, turning so they could see the curve of my ass, bending just enough to make my cheeks round and full under the thin fabric. I arched my back, running my hands down my torso, teasing myself for their eyes. The air hummed with catcalls and whistles, every sound feeding my arousal. I felt powerful. Desired. Exposed. The driver adjusted his mirror again, his eyes glued to me. My cock twitched inside my panties, leaking, the wet spot spreading. A chorus of moans and encouragement filled the bus as I spread my legs, cupped myself through the silky fabric, and let them watch my face flush and my chest rise and fall with each deep breath. I was their show, their Chrissy, their secret goddess on wheels. Chrissy’s Bus Show – The Climax The bus swayed along the road, but I barely noticed. Every set of eyes was on me — hungry, wide, devouring. I stood in the aisle in nothing but my pink floral bra and panties, my smooth skin glistening under the fluorescent lights, my cock straining the damp satin. “Do it, Chrissy,” someone whispered, voice husky with need. “Yes… show us,” another begged. The encouragement hit me like waves of heat. I hooked my thumbs under the band of my panties, tugged them tight against my bulge, and let out a trembling gasp. My cock pulsed, the wet spot spreading. The riders groaned, some openly rubbing themselves as they watched. I spread my legs wider, arched my back, and cupped myself through the silky fabric. The friction was maddening. My hips bucked, the panties darkening with each spurt of precum. “God, look at you,” the bus driver moaned from the mirror, his knuckles white on the wheel. The passengers cheered me on, clapping, catcalling, shouting my name. “Chrissy! Chrissy!” I slid one hand up my chest, over my flat stomach, to my bra — tugging at the cups, making my nipples stand hard under the lace. My other hand rubbed furiously over the soaked bulge, grinding, stroking, teasing myself to the edge. The entire bus rocked with my moans. My thighs quivered, my lips parted, sweat dripping down my temples. I was lost in it, lost in them, lost in the rush of being seen. Then it hit. “Ahhh—!” My body seized, cock jerking uncontrollably as I came hard in my panties. Hot, sticky release poured out, soaking the pink fabric, running down my thighs. Gasps and cheers filled the air, some passengers clapping, others moaning with me as if they’d climaxed, too. (continued in comments below): -Chrissy

Good evening sweets! I'm off to work. But thought I'd leave you with a story. More: http://chrissyinsd.hotviber.com/ #crossdresser #sissy #sissyboy #crossdressers #sissies #shemale #ladyboy #femboy #femman #femboys #crossdressing #gurl #trans #transgirl #transwoman #transgender #tgirl #gay #lgbtq #nsfw #adultsonly #adultcontent The Meeting That Got Out of Hand I showed up to the office dressed in my “Supervisor” uniform — black polo shirt tucked neatly into black pants, shiny work shoes. On the outside, I looked like any middle manager headed into a boring meeting. But under it all, I wore my little secret: a lacy pink bra and panties. Just knowing they were against my skin made me shiver with anticipation. The room looked like an office conference space, complete with a long table, chairs, and quarterly reports scattered around. Five others were waiting — three men in polos like mine, and two women in skirts and blouses. I sat down and kept tugging at my shirt, worried my bra straps might show. That’s when one of the women leaned over and smirked. “Chris… is that lace I see under your collar?” My stomach flipped. I froze, heat rushing to my face. Everyone’s eyes snapped to me. The strap had slipped just enough to peek out. One of the men chuckled, leaning forward. “No way… are you wearing a bra under that uniform?” My hands fumbled at my collar, trying to hide it. “I… maybe.” My voice cracked. The woman reached over and tugged my shirt down just enough to reveal the delicate strap, then the curve of lace against my chest. Gasps, then laughter, but not cruel — hungry. Aroused. “Stand up,” another man said. “Show us.” I hesitated only a second before rising to my feet. Heart pounding, I pulled my polo up, exposing the pink bra stretched across my chest. The room went silent, then filled with low groans of approval. “Fuck, Chrissy,” one of them whispered. “Turn around.” I obeyed, bending slightly. My waistband had slipped low enough that the lacy panties showed above my pants. Someone reached out, tugging them down just enough to expose the curve of my ass. The first touch made me gasp — a hand sliding over the silk, squeezing, then pulling my pants down around my thighs. Now I was standing in front of them in bra and panties, my cock already swelling against the lace. They closed in. A woman pressed her lips to mine, lipstick smearing as her tongue slid into my mouth. Hands roamed everywhere — groping my ass, tugging at my nipples through the bra, cupping my cock through the panties. “Get on the table,” the tall man ordered. I climbed onto the polished surface, lying back as they surrounded me. Someone yanked my panties aside, freeing my cock, already dripping. A hot mouth enveloped me, sucking hard, while another tongue flicked over my nipple, teeth grazing until I cried out. My legs were spread wide, panties shoved down, and I felt a slick finger pushing into my ass, stretching me open. I moaned around the cock one of the men slid between my lips, gagging as he held my head and thrust deep. It was a blur of sensation. One man fucking my throat, another pumping into my ass, their bodies grinding against me while the women took turns riding my face and jerking my cock. The table shook with every thrust, papers scattering like a storm. “Good little slut,” someone growled in my ear as they pounded into me from behind, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the office. My cock spurted across my stomach, hot and sticky, but they didn’t stop. They used me until I was soaked with cum inside and out, my bra twisted, panties torn, lipstick smeared across my face. When it was finally over, I lay sprawled on the table, trembling, dripping, utterly used. The others buttoned their shirts, straightened their skirts, laughing softly as though the meeting had gone exactly as planned. I wiped the mess from my lips, my chest still heaving. “So…” I whispered, voice raw, “should I type up the minutes?” The room erupted in laughter — and I knew I’d just passed my first real office initiation. -Chrissy

A poem hoping many of you will relate,tell me if you relate. Mirror to my soul,don’t flinch- Show her:the girl the glass denies. Lashes like dusk on velvet skin, Cheeks brushed with dawns first rose surprise. Beneath the lie of broad,hard lines she arches-swan neck,lilac throat, breasts soft as secrets,hips that shine in satin light no stranger wrote. The world sees stone;a few hearts know the mirrors truth:her feminine glow.

Unraveling the Thread: How Clothing Has Been Used to Subjugate Women—and Why That’s Changing By Chrissy Why do women have to cover their chests while men can go shirtless in public? It’s a question that may seem simple—but carries profound implications about gender, power, and control. What we wear has never been neutral. Clothing is one of the most immediate ways society tells us who we are, or who we’re allowed to be. And when it comes to gender, clothing has been weaponized—especially against women—for centuries. But this isn’t just about history. It’s about lived experience. It’s personal. My Own Journey Through the Fabric of Gender As someone still exploring my own gender identity, this topic isn’t abstract. I was always a little more feminine than masculine, even as a child. For years, I repressed it—hiding behind "boy clothes" and what society expected of me. But in time, especially through the support of loving partners and close relationships, I came to embrace not only my homosexuality but something even deeper: the truth of my transgender identity. I am a woman—a female self long trapped in a male body. Though I firmly believe clothing shouldn't define gender—because gender identity is internal, not sartorial—clothing still does carry that symbolic weight in our world today. And so, until I find the strength to publicly transition, I express my femininity in the ways that are available to me now: I wear bras and female underwear every day in secret beneath my outwardly masculine clothing. In private, I allow myself to wear skirts, dresses, lingerie, and the soft, beautiful fabrics that make me feel aligned with my true self. It’s not about performance. It’s about presence. It’s about reclaiming what was always mine. The History of Clothing as a Tool of Gender Control To understand how we got here, we must look back. Clothing began as a means of protection. But from early civilization onward, it evolved into a tool of social stratification—and eventually, a means of gender control. Ancient societies created strict visual codes for women, emphasizing modesty, submission, and containment. While men wore tunics or armor suited for movement, battle, and public life, women were wrapped, tied, bound, and veiled. The message was clear: men moved freely through the world. Women did not. In medieval and early modern Europe, this dichotomy hardened. Men's clothing was practical. Women’s clothing was restrictive, ornate, and often uncomfortably symbolic. Corsets, crinolines, and hoop skirts made running, fighting, or even breathing difficult. These garments weren’t just fashion—they were cages. If you were wearing a dress, you weren’t riding into battle. You weren’t speaking in court. You weren’t commanding an army or a kingdom. You were ornamental. You were controlled. Modesty, the Female Chest, and the Double Standard These patterns persist today—nowhere more clearly than in the sexualization of the female chest. The fact that a man can walk down the street shirtless without a second glance, while a woman can be arrested for doing the same, speaks volumes. This isn’t about modesty. It’s about power and shame. The female chest has been hyper-sexualized while simultaneously shrouded in taboo. This serves to objectify women and punish them at the same time. Even breastfeeding in public is controversial in many places—seen not as natural or maternal, but as obscene. This double standard is part of a larger system that says women must be desirable but modest, visible but not too loud, strong but not threatening. And clothing is the vehicle through which these contradictory demands are enforced. Clothing as Power—and Resistance Throughout history, clothing has helped define who was allowed to hold power. Male garments—uniforms, suits, boots—were made for authority. Female garments were not. This is why women were long excluded from spaces of governance and decision-making. Until just a few decades ago, women couldn’t wear pants in courtrooms or on the floor of the U.S. Senate. Power had a dress code—and that dress code was male. To be continued in next post... Love, Chrissy #crossdresser #crossdressing #CD #gurl #sissy #sissyboy #trans #tgirl #transgirl #transwoman #transgender #ladyboy #femboy #shemale

I always thought heels were hard to walk in but with a little patience, they make me legs look better

Finding it hard to upload a picture of mine on my profile

I remember looking at the dress when it first arrived! I was breathing hard and heart was beating fast looking at it and gently moaning! I have such a boner right now 💗💗🍆

I managed a little bit of time with the dress this morning! I was breathing so hard taking it out the wardrobe! 💗💗🍆

i am femboy.. i like hard play and humiliation

What is always on Patti’s mind, big , hard and creamy

I know that I am not the most beautiful girl out there. But when I was on another app trying to meet someone to talk too, I had a very derogatory introduction. I am sorry that I don't live up to the expectations of everyone, but I have had a hard life of work. It is keyboard warriors with no profile picture that can go to mommy and daddy's pantry. Grab a great big bowl of "Dickaroo" cereal and choke on the chocolate ones. Sorry for the rant, but it is very disheartening and blatantly rude.

Never think there is an easier way. You should start even in the hardest possible situation.

I think I have hit my breaking point. It is time for Lexi to work hard to find that sexy body. She is going to study makeup like it is a class she is preparing for. Please wish me luck. It will be a long hard journey, but she needs it.

Send me something hard and something plugged in my inbox

On my mind is my lovely huge dress! I miss wearing it and i was finding it hard not to cum while feeling my huge boner thinking about it! 🍆💦

Hey everyone, just wanted to give you a quick update. I made it through, and the surgery was a complete success. Now, about six weeks later, it still feels kind of surreal to say that I actually have a vagina. There’s still swelling and some pain, but the hardest part is definitely behind me. Day by day it’s starting to feel more natural, even if recovery is still a challenge. And honestly, putting something inside down there still feels pretty strange, haha, but I’m just glad I’ve made it this far. Finally live my life as a Woman

I've written a proper self-introduction in my profile, but whether it's because of this site's design or my own experience, few people read it. I think the problem is that this site's profiles are hard to read. 😓

Hey everyone. First day back after a family holiday, back to the normal routine. Back to work!! I work in the construction industry, a very masculine industry, and it's what I have been doing since I left school. I am a joiner, have my own workshop and work on my own most of the time. I always wear knickers to work and in the winter, when it's cold and I'm always wearing a jumper I usually wear a lacy body, basque or sometimes a corset under my work clothes. Always wearing stockings, hold ups obviously. It's my way of bringing Sammy into my everyday life, in secret of course. It's hard to make changes to your body without it being noticed, have to be slow and subtle. It's also back to the exercise routine. Had a bit of over indulgence whilst away so got to get rid of the tummy. Also saw lots of lovely bums in bikinis on the beach and was so envious. I really need to improve my bum. Any tips anyone to get a bigger shaplier butt? Sammy. Xx

It's so hard to find a girl who is passionate and can ignite the passion of love now they all look almost the same to me maybe searching has become almost meaningless now

For the Karens that report content on a public page where 99% is way more "Risk-ay" than what i post that gets taken down. Much love sweethearts 😘 You dont like my content just block not that hard 🥰

I'm overweight and tall, neither petite nor beautiful like Japanese women. I don't get much attention on Japanese social media. Maybe it's because I'm not trying hard enough. But I want to keep wearing the clothes I like. I like everyone here because they talk to me kindly. But there are some people who are a little annoying.

Very very hung over and extremely horny. Laid on my hotel bed in my panties with a massive hard on

🛑 Mental health check 🛑 How is everyone doing today mentally? It seems like a lot of people are struggling, Myself included. Remember your water, nourish your body, and do one thing for just yourself today. Because if you’re gonna be depressed, anxious, or stressed….. might as well spoil yourself in the process 😁 At least that’s what I tell Myself on harder days like today, I don’t know if it will help but it’s worth a shot 💖🎠

I absolutely love my green dress! The soft silk with the built in hooped petticoat makes me rock hard! 💗🍆💦

My pics make ur dick hard baby? 🤔😏😜

Horny high and getting hard

My nipples go hard when I x dress 💋 ❤️

Hard to relax when dressing like this makes you horny as hell!! Xx