At the university, I did not want people to see that I went out onto the street, day or night, in girls clothes. Although there isn't a rule that ladyboys are not allowed to study at university, it was simply inconvenient and downright embarrassing for anybody to point at...and whisper...behind my back.
So I went out at night at around 2 am in male clothing...as simple as possible, just shirt and trousers with no underwear...and then I carried along a bag containing female clothing -- wig, heels, skirt, panties and yes, bra.
I changed into female clothing at a male toilet, because if I was ever spotted doing this ....putting on girls clothes...by another toilet user, he would at most get curious, or even approached me, which was what I wanted. But if on the other hand, I did my crossdressing at a female toilet, I was one hundred percent certain any woman/girl would SCREAM out aloud if she saw a boy taking off his trousers to put on skirt.
Having changed into skirt, I liked urinating into the male urinal with my skirt on, and that...urinating at a male toilet as a GIRL prettily dressed in sexy mini-skirt... turned me on, setting me on fire.
And then I waited at a toilet closet behind close door, for someone to enter the toilet -- hoping to approach him for sex if he did appear. There was just a 20 per cent chance that anyone would use the public toilet so early in the morning, but in about once a week, a man/boy would turn up, and then I would approach him, telling him what I was -- that I was training at home to be a girl and I wanted him to treat me like a girl.
The first question that the man/boy would ask was : How much ? When I told him that it was free, he would ALWAYS ask me to kneel down to suck his penis, while pushing down my shirt and bra to touch, caress or even squeeze my small breasts. But almost as a rule when I asked the man/boy to have me fucked in my asshole...I went down on my hands and knees butt bare begging him to do it to me...he would refuse, for understandable reasons because he was afraid of contracting a sexually transmissible disease through contact with me.
But it was okay, this being touched and caressed by the rough hands of a man/boy, because it made me feel so good ...turned on to heated passion...since the friction caused to my soft, white smooth skin NEVER failed to make me cum afterwards, during and immediately after the encounter -- and that was real relief because with all the female hormones I was taking, it was very very difficult for me to make myself hard, not to say cum.
Because my breasts were very small, at just 32 inches, I chose to crossdress as a little girl on many occasions. I put on a wig with double ponies, and then whitened my skin as much as possible, to create that titillating 'helpless, vulnerable' little girl image.
Then off I went into the back lanes and streets at night, dressed like a little school girl. This kind of outfit....that of a little girl in distress...always attracted the attention of lonely men passing by in the middle of the night. Then I went up to my targeted man, and told him a pitiable story of myself -- a helpless little boy, being forcibly trained to be a girl by Papa...I made the story to appear that I was forced feminized , instead of in truth me being rather enjoyed being trained to be a girl.
I told the man that I would be whipped by Papa if I was not girl enough. Most men were prepared to help train me to be more girl, and they said that my skin looked very pretty...so white and soft like a girl's....and my penis was so small....that I well deserved to be trained to be a girl, since my penis was too short, small and soft to be of any practical use.
So my little girl image always successfully got what I wanted...one sexciting adventure fulfilled and consummated to my full satisfaction.
The university library closed at 11 pm, and towards the last hour before closing, most parts of the library, particularly the research books sections, were practically all empty. I went into the library as a boy, using my university library entrance pass. And then when I was certain that nobody was around, I quickly went behind some book shelves -- and there in hiding I put on a wig and put on the girls clothes I had carefully packed into my bag.
And then I walked around the largely empty library, openly, in girls clothes. This kind of crossdressing routine...changing into girls clothes behind closely packed high book shelves...was so sexciting that as soon as I was in girls clothes, I began having an erection, a FEAT hard to achieve in my condition, since I had been taking female hormones since childhood.
Then with this erection down between my legs...not very hard, only just, but it, my penis, was indeed erect after all...I looked for boys to flirt with. Once in a while, some very shy-looking boys...those wearing glasses, in particular...would flirt with me, and then I lured him to a corner behind some bookshelves, and there he unbuttoned my shirt and then in a sort of frenzy, he squeezed, caressed or just touched my breasts...oh soooooo comfortable.
But when his hands wanted to explore down there under my skirt, I always stopped him from doing it, because if he disocovered that I had a penis, he might just yell out, and the university security guards would come see what happen...and then I would be kicked out from university for moral indecency.
The boys, once having touched or squeezed my breasts, would walk quickly away, and I would walk quickly away too, changing back into male clothing at a male toilet, and then walked quickly out from the library.
Quite often, the boys who had touched me at the library might somehow meet me at the university campus afterwards...they kept staring at me, because I looked so much like THAT girl at the library. but they wouldn't dare to say anything or show any sign of recognition for fear of offending me, since I was always decently clothed with tie and baggy trousers....with glasses on too...at day.
At the university I continued to take female hormones, on and off though, so that although I lived...for the first time in life since the age of 13....full time as a boy, those emotionally disturbing effects of female hormones kept me awake at night, for at least three hours in the middle of the night, always from 2.30 am to 4.30 am.
I tried to control myself NOT to dress as a girl to go outside the university campus to seek adventures, but at times I lost control of myself, especially after I couldn't help caressing my own nipples during those small hours of the early morning. And so I HAD to put on a wig, put on a bra and must get dressed as a girl....and then I sneaked out from the boys hostel where I stayed --always using the back door fire escape stairs and not using the lift, so that I wouldn't be seen in girls clothes.
My primary target was a security guard guarding the main entrance to the university campus. He was a good-looking man in his 30's, very strong, and as he worked only the night shifts, there would be no embarrassment of my being recognized at day by him.
The first time I got near him, my heart kept pounding...how would he react ? But I soon found that he was after all a man, and as my skin looked so nice, white and soft, and my face was sufficiently feminine because of the makeup I put on, he was most willing...in fact eager...to have sex with me in the security of his little rest room locked from the inside.
I told him that I was a visiting student from a Thailand university, and since I was a ladyboy I needed sex. That was enough. And for several months, I sneaked out at night to have sex with him almost every night, until about three months later, he resigned and left.
It was such a good time...because despite the recklessness and the audacity there had been no consequence....nobody knew about it. And so I was encouraged by that SUCCESS to go crossdressng at night as a habit, as from the 3rd year I was at the university.
This was me, walking into a lecture hall to attend one of my literature lectures. I found myself much more good-looking than most other boys at the university because of my soft, fine features and creamy complexion.
Quite a number of girl students in my literature class were apparently attracted by my good looks, and kept getting close to me at both the canteen and the library. Some sat so very close to me that I felt the weight of their breasts on my back or arms, so that I was afraid, and after each lecture, I rushed back to my hostel room like a frightened little lamb being pursued by a horde of tigresses.
The more the girls got close to me, the greater became the drive inside me to dress myself as a girl at night, so that my body could be touched by the hands of men, like a girl. I like putting on a big coat while attending lectures both to hide my budding breasts (32 inches and growing), and to enable me to put on a bra beneath my cloths without being seen to have one. I sooooo love having a bra on, but that was taboo, since I was a boy, and that....not being able to put on girls clothes...was most frustrating to me.
I just couldn't hard, with or without penis wrappings, and I punished my naughty penis...oh so useless...by having it bound as tight as possible, so it knew what it was like to be so naughtily lazy.. Yes female hormones made me so pretty-looking, and yet they had kept my poor penis so very weak. Why couldn't I look pretty AND have a penis that could get hard.
At the university hostel room, I often woke up in the small hours of the morning, at about 3 0'clock, with my heart pounding like a galloping horse, and then a torrent of passion, hot as furnace, swelled up to my heart, sending...yes radiating... uncontrollable heat waves all over my body.
I began perspiring, and in no time I was FORCED to take out my crossdressing gadgets....bra, skirt, wig, heels and makeup kits...and within about 15 minutes...I couldn't wait for more than THAT...I left the room, leaving the key beneath a nearby carpet...and off I went down to the dark, deserted streets. I avoided the main roads where there might be police patrols, and went direct to an isolated spot where a public lavatory stood.
I loitered round the lavatory, and within about one hour, there was usually one lone man who went into the toilet to pee. I followed him into the toilet....lifted up my skirt to let him see my small cock...he then knew WHAT I was....and in most cases, he would let me get down on my knees to suck him off, and then I INVITED him to use his hand to caress, squeeze and touch my small cock - that made me feel relieved, and with that relief that hot torrent of passion which initially drove me out from my room onto the street was GONE, vanishing to nowhere.
I walked quickly back to the university hostel, taking the stairs instead of the lift to avoid being seen, and then I retrieved the key I left behind beneath the carpet....oh it was there because I just could not take it out with me, female clothes had NO pockets (!)... and as soon as I was back into the room, I took a cold bath, and then I could finally sleep.
(Me : In the final year of my B.A. (honours) degree programme - I was a bright history student with a good memory. I was on top of my class with straight As but I had no friends...boys or girls...at the university. I got obsessed with crossdressing, because the magic it gave me enabled me to live the wonderful ego trip of becoming a pretty girl. Oh those days were wonderful !!)
If you ask me which is more interesting - crossdressing or MtF transition --the answer is most emphatically 'crossdressing'. In a way my MtF transition was forced on me because of several major mistakes I made in my past life. Given a choice, I would have preferred to continue living as a crossdresser for the rest of my life.
If you are a crossdresser and are reading this, you know very well the excitement of putting on women's clothes, and of going out at night in search of adventures. When the time for me to get dressed up as a girl came, my heart kept pounding, and there was such a rush of adrenaline all over me, so that waiting for just for one more second to go out would be unthinkable.
When I looked at myself in the mirror...with myself in makeup and in girls clothes...I was in love with that girl, that female persona of mine that held me in captivity. She seemed to be calling on me to get ready and get fucked. The excitement of being in girls clothes at times overcame me even in the daytime, so that although it was indeed quite dangerous for me to go out in girls clothes from a men's university hostel, I just couldn't control myself. I had to go out. While in male clothing, there was always that great excitement of being in bra and panties underneath my shirt and trousers. And then while I was at the lecture hall, I felt greatly turned on by the way the boys... sitting nearby... looking at me...peeping at me...and I was so excited when they made use of certain excuses to chat with me at the canteen.
People like me...with crossdressing tendencies...are in my view either gay or bisexual. We crossdressers cannot be straight, because the things we do are NOT straight -- indeed very much twisted in terms of conventional wisdom.
Once while I was at my university hostel room, having nothing to do, that tremendous drive...the call of my wild passion...came over me... so I just couldn't wait till night to go out in search of sex adventures of some sort. So I just got dressed ...put makeup on hurriedly...there was no time to wait...the drive was all over me...I left the hostel in a hurry and went to a deserted street nearby, hoping to get hooked up with a man.
A young man did appear...I approached him as usual, and as you can see from the photos of my university years , I looked rather attractive in short hair. I took the man's hands to my breasts...let him feel the softness of my breasts...but in my excitement I forgot to stick to that golden safety rule which was to announce well in advance that I had a cock.
The man was so turned on that he towed me behind a big tree immediately. There was nobody else in sight. He lifted up my skirt...he did not see the bulge beneath my panties because I had wrapped and bound up my cock...and then almost in a frenzy, he pulled down my panties. He was surprised to see what was beneath my panties...and then the trouble began.
He shouted at me, calling me a pervert, and he held me down with his knees on my back while taking out his hand phone to call the police. I heard him tell the police that he had just captured a pervert in girls clothes asking to have sex with passers-by at public places. In my country, that is punishable by at least 5 years of imprisonment.
In my country, ladyboys are locked in male prisons if convicted on criminal charges. I knew what was in store for me should the police come. I told the man that I needed to urinate, but the man said that he wouldn't be fooled, because I would run away on that pretext. In desperation I told him that I really needed to pee, and if he didn't trust me, he could keep my skirt, panties, socks and heels, and then I wouldn't be able to run away. There was a wall nearby and I wished to pee behind that wall.
So the man kept my clothes...making me naked from the waist down...and let me go behind that wall to pee. It wasn't that he was kind, but he told me that he wouldn't let me accuse him...when the police arrived...that he allowed me to pee at roadside in full public view.
That brick wall was just about ten feet away from the tree where the man held me captive. He let go of me...with me being naked from the waist down...and at the first few steps I walked slowly and then I took a mad dash ...doubled back to run past him...crossed the road to the other side...the man started chasing after me....and when we were running towards the main street...where they might be some passers-by...the man stopped abruptly. The idea of chasing after a girl naked from the waist down...albeit with a cock...was too wild even for the imagination. He was afraid that he himself would be arrested for chasing after me, who was looking every inch a pretty girl.
I reached the main street...took a shortcut across a muddy yard back to my hostel...took the lift up back to my room. On the way, there was surprisingly nobody around, and despite the fact that I was naked from the waist down, I was not seen by anybody. I had made good my escape from a 5-year jail sentence.
Just because I had been caught like that didn't mean the end of my crossdressing spree. I found that men were very much attracted to me by my lily white skin and surprisingly, my very small, docile-looking uncut cock of just about 2 inches. So I kept having lots of whitening cream on my skin, particularly at my chest as I often put on low-cut dresses. My cock was shaved bald...without any pubic hair...and I poured icy cold water over it to make sure that it got as small as possible when I went out as a girl. The first thing I did when I met a man was to loosen my shirt...let the man see my breasts...the second step was to lift up my skirt to let the man have a full look at my cute little cock with its drooping, docile penis...and then he could see my shaved legs which were creamy white and almost shining bright against the dim evening street lights.
On most occasions, men would just need me to get down on my knees to suck them off, and then they would give me the satisfaction of being humiliated to eat their cum. There was this strong desire for me to submit to men, and be punished and humiliated by them. I sometimes brought along a table tennis bat so I could invite the man I approached to have me spanked out in the open at a street corner or a public park.
The PROCESS during which a man...or a teenage boy...took off my clothes...piece by piece...and eventually having my body totally naked...me with big breasts and a small cock...on my knees...and him in the full dignity of being fully clothed...towering above...gave me the greatest turn-on possible.
My otherwise very soft penis started hardening when I was told to kneel down at the man's feet to suck his cock. The man just needed to unzip his fly and take out his penis and he could fuck me in my mouth and asshole in the full dignity of being fully clothed...while I had to kneel down submissively...all naked...obediently allowed myself to be squeezed, fondled and touched at my breasts, cock and butt. That looked most humiliating ... from an ordinary person's point of view...but by any standard I was not ordinary, and THAT made me feel so excited to the point of having an occasional erection AFTER a man had played with my body...humiliated me by making me eat his cum...and having me fucked hard without mercy at my asshole.
In my encounters with men, I had found that Caucasian, Malay and Indian men were interested more in having me knelt down to suck their penis than caressing my breasts, which I myself like (still do !!) tremendously. The usual thing was for men of these races to ask me to get down on my knees to suck their penis. Not every man could successfully cum in my mouth, and sometimes they put the blame on me, for having used my teeth to hurt their penis. I always apologized for that, and offered my butt to be hand spanked by them for my incompetence. Some men did hand spank me, and I liked that because that 'bak'...'bak' sound made from the hand impact on my butt never failed to turn me on.
And my little pee pee gained the satisfaction of being able to harden a bit. Men didn't like me to get hard while they were having me fucked or spanked, so I always carefully used my hand to hold down my penis to push it downward in case it really got erect, which it occasionally did if the man used the right force and pace to have me spanked or fucked.
I made up for my shortcoming in sucking penis by giving men a hand job -- by using my hands to massage their penis until they did cum after all. My hands are soft, delicate...and in particular small...and the sight of my soft little hands ...and delicate fingers...on their cock...caressing and gently touching it...at the tip of the penis, in particular...never failed to give men the hot impulse they needed to ultimately have me penetrated long and deep. Tamil Indian and Caucasian men have remarkably staying power inside my asshole, and despite the poor fucking environment, which was just a street corner behind a dirty wall....or behind some trees at a public park...men of such racial background...including the Malays...could muster a tremendous erection inside me for up to 10-15 minutes.
Chinese men are generally much weaker, and MOST of them could NOT manage an erection though I had given them both a blow job and a hand job. They tended to be a bit more reserve, and preferred to take me to a hotel where they could start massaging my body...arms, chest and in particular my breasts. In fact I liked having my soft breasts...especially my large nipples...caressed, touched or even pinched and twisted by the large, rough hands and fingers of men. When those rough fingers are on my nipples. I got immediately turned on, and there was this stunningly weak feeling getting all over me...and I tend (still do) to become more obedient after my nipples have been caressed, squeezed or touched.
(Towards the final year of my university studies, I was so infatuated by the pretty girl in the mirror...me...that I decided that I must make myself prettier by growing bigger breasts. I started taking Ptemarin, a most powerful breast-enhancing drug. Within six months, my bust measurement increased to 34 inches which for the first time in my life made my breasts passable by ordinary adult female standards. I started growing long hair, which I bound and tied into a pony in the daytime Then at night I found more sex adventures.
That urge was so strong in me at a certain time at night that the crossdressing frenzy I was in didn't give me time to make up myself prettily. The sort of encounter that merely involved men requiring me to get down on my knees to suck them off no longer satisfied me. I wanted to make the man I met to go all the way, caressing me on my breasts and then having me penetrated in my asshole.
Then one rainy night, the call of the wild was again galloping through my blood stream...I woke up in the middle of the night...at 2.30 a.m....feeling so very hot all over... I tried to masturbate to get released...but just couldn't cum however hard I tried...the only option was to go out in girls dress...yes just loitering around in girls clothes would help...and hopefully in such small hours, I might meet a man.
I put on makeup to make myself more attractive...on that occasion with great care to achieve better effects...and results...and I shaved my legs again to make sure that they were soft, white and without hairs -- without even hair stubs.
I passed by a restaurant in the pitch darkness, with there being a drizzle. I was carrying an umbrella and a table tennis bat -- and I so wanted to find a man who would use that bat to have me spanked...then fucked...and then I could be released from that intense pressure...like sparks of electricity... building up inside me - and that pressure just wouldn't let go of me. It was so crushingly heavy, almost suffocating.
I saw a much older man opening the door of the restaurant, and he was apparently the owner of the restaurant from the way he looked...with glasses on...and he was in rather expensive-looking clothes. I intended to attract his attention by lifting up my skirt and squatting to pee at a spot at the roadside just yards away from him . I could see that my butt, my thighs and legs were exposed in full view in their bright, white shining glory in the dimness of the street lights.
The old man soon saw me, and came up to me to ask me what I was doing, and then as he looked down on me... he saw the cleavage of my breasts opening up wide, leading his sight inevitably to my half -exposed nipples beneath my low cut T-shirt. He asked me what I was doing, and I replied that I was urinating and I couldn't find a public toilet. He said, 'Come on in...there is a toilet inside my place.' He led me into his restaurant, and then he took me to where the toilets were....I went into the one with the 'Men' label on its door. The old man was curious...he followed me into the toilet...and I removed my skirt and panties...exposing my small cock to full view...and sat on the toilet bowl to pee.
The old man then said, 'Oh you are a ladyboy....why don't you just stand to pee ?' I told him that I was raised as a girl at home, and Papa would have me whipped if I didn't sit down to pee...so I was used to sitting down to pee, or I couldn't pee easily. As I was leaving the toilet, I saw the old man taking out his penis to massage it with his own hands...and then he said,'Don't go...how much ?' He was thinking that I was a prostitute and was intending to buy my service. I played his game, and said that I was in need of money so I would like him to sleep with me so I could get some money. The man said, 'Come...my rest room is at the second floor.'
As I was taking off my clothes, he was already placing his hands on my breasts....then he murmured,'Very soft...very white...nice pink nipples.' He groped and grasped my breasts, stroking them from their base upward to the top-- and then his big, fat fingers made circular rounds all over them. Very gently... with very slow motion... he used his index fingers to draw small circles at my nipples...those bulging nipples of mine soon stood firm and erect, causing me to feel paralyzed in a dizzy sort of way. THAT was the first time in my life when I had met a man who really knew how to make a girl happy by caressing her breasts at the right pace and with just the correct, needed force...no more and no less...just to that sexciting, imploding point.
As he was stroking my breasts, he asked me all sorts of questions, including whether I went to school at all, as my skin looked so white that it seemed never to have been exposed to sunlight. I went along with him and told him that I didn't go to school, and I did housework all day indoors, like many girls from poor families in my country -- no education, just obediently doing housework. The man was again turned on by what I said, and he started stroking my little cock, swinging and twisting my little penis round and round...up and down...and then having it twisted -- and sucked. That was again the first time a man had been willing to suck my tiny penis. All other men would have me whipped if I even mentioned that - asking my penis to be sucked.
Then after stroking and sucking my pee pee for nearly 15 minutes, the man asked, 'You can't get hard ?' I said I sometimes did get hard, but Papa wouldn't like that and I was always whipped for getting hard without permission, so I often got my penis wrapped up...the way women in imperial China wrapped up their feet...to make it soft and small, so it would lose its ability to get hard. THAT gave the man a tremendous erection and he pushed his penis right into my mouth. Again for the first time in my life, I felt the gradual hardening of the penis...at other times when men shuffled their penis into my mouth, it was already rock hard...it felt sort of like a soft rubber balloon blowing up inside my mouth.
Then the old man started cumming in my mouth...just a bit of cum...and as I was not prepared for that, I sort of spitted out some of it, making the old man quite angry. 'How do your Papa punish you for that ?' I gave the man the table tennis bat I was taking along and said that I would normally be spanked for not eating all the cum of Papa. Then the man asked me to get down on my knees with my butt raised way up, and as he saw my big, round milky white butt cheeks, he asked, 'Your butt is like a girl's...why so big ?' I told him that I was taking female hormones to make my penis smaller, but the side effect was making my butt big and round. Furthermore, I always sat to do knitting and embroidery...like other girls in my country...and never played boys' games like football -- so I had a girly butt.
I heard no reply but the impact of the table tennis butt was soon on my butt...'bak'...'bak''...that 'bak' sound reverberated in the quiet of the night. There was a standing mirror in front of us, and I could see the old man raise the bat high to beat me on my butt...many times over...quite painful but my little pee pee soon got its relief and release by leaking out that hateful load of cum jammed inside it ...that same lousy bit of cum load that created such pressure inside me and made me suffer so terribly in that rainy night.
My bottom soon got red...prawn red...from such spanking, and my little pee pee successfully retracted to a drooping, small lump of dangling flesh devoid of energy...oh...may be just one inch in length only. The man said triumphantly, 'Yes good...your pee pee is getting smaller...a boy like you should not be allowed to get hard...your Papa is right...now look at what I have got.' He dangled his rock hard penis at my face...oh so big...nearly 8 inches hard ...surprisingly hard for a man of his age. Then he rammed brutally into my asshole, as if he were trying to tear it apart -- excruciatingly painful...I moaned in pain and begged for mercy as usual -- but he said,'Stop crying out aloud...others may know.' And he passed me a towel for me to bite hard to keep my mouth shut tight...and he again resumed having me penetrated.
So the sweetness I felt at the beginning of that encounter turned in the end to become an ordeal, and when it was all over after about 20 minutes, I could just limp or hobble while leaving that restaurant. He did give me some money - just enough to buy two meals,and then he asked me to come back the following night.
But he was too strong...and my asshole was too small in those days to take him in...and when I went out again at night, I purposely avoided that street where that restaurant was situated, so the man wouldn't see me again -- too painful -- I wasn't ready for that.)
I like this picture of mine, which was taken in April 2015-- two years into my MtF transition.
(Master was very proud of His achievement for having so successfully feminized me to be so soft and submissive. He invited His close friends...both men and women... their wives...to come see my body.
i was told to get undressed inside the bedroom, leaving myself all naked with just my panties on. In the meantime i waited on my knees...behind the door of the bedroom...while Master let his friends see some video footage and pictures of my past life as a male teacher. Some pictures showed me teaching English to students in the classroom, with me having a (fake) mustache on, very serious-looking--almost solemn with me being with glasses on as well.
When the guests had finished watching the videos and pictures of my past as a boy and as a male teacher, Master opened the bedroom door and asked me to crawl out to the sitting room on my hands and knees. Master deliberately cut a small hole at the front of my panties, so that my clean-shaved little penis, then shrunken to just barely two inches, was sort of being jutted out right through that hole, it being seen to be dangling weakly and meekly in between my legs as i was crawling out. My boobs....at nearly 36 inches... were also swinging left and right...right and left... the swinging motion of my boobs were seemingly somehow in tune with the dangling ups-and-downs of my small penis.
The men couldn't help touching my body, all over, from face to feet, saying,'Oh, skin so white, soft and smooth...nice tits...cute little pee pee.' Their wives just sat there, saying nothing...motionless...some with faces flushed red...as if embarrassingly awestruck by the immense changes I had gone through since my MtF transition.
I saw a young woman in her 20-s touch herself on her own breasts, making with her fingers caressive rounds all over them, to sort of compare her own boobs with mine. I also overheard one middle-aged woman chat with a younger woman sitting at her side, talking something about my hands and feet were so surprisingly small, delicate and lily white. I liked what they said about me.
Master told me to kneel in front of all the guests, and then He ordered me to stick out my tongue and hold up my arms with my fingers curled inwards...like a dog...and then He told me to bark like a puppy. I obediently did that...'UuuWooo'...'AuuAu'...like that....and then I walked on my knees to kneel at the feet of the guests...helped them to take off their shoes and socks, and then helped each one of them to put on slippers. Some men seized hold of my hands as I was taking off their shoes, and then they caressed my hands, saying,'So white...so small' --while their wives looked on, seemingly embarrassed --but a few were also at the same time looking at their own hands...pairing their fingers...to compare theirs with mine.
Some women noticed that there were red lash marks on my butt, and asked me why. I told them that I was working as an escort...I was no more a teacher...and if I was disobedient, the men would spank or whip me on my butt. Then two women gave me some advice on how to be more obedient to men at the bedroom...such as I mustn't complain or struggle while being fucked...I must moan and beg for mercy more often...I must hold down my penis with one of my hands at all time to show my girlie submission...and then they said if I followed their advice, I wouldn't be spanked so often for disobedience or naughtiness.
Then i introduced myself, 'Hi, my name is Jennifer Yvonne...Master gave this girl's name to me...I like being a girl.' Master patted me on my head, saying, 'Good girl...now smile...I want to take a picture of your beautiful body.' I smiled, really sweetly, because Master was so caring and loving towards me !! This is THAT picture.)
Crossdressing as a form of sex orientation stems in my view from an inner feeling that one feels good and fulfilled while being in a women's clothes. You need only to look at men's clothes to see why many men get bored with their male clothing. The trousers are uniformly designed and are ALWAYS in shades of grey, black, brown or deep blue. If a man puts on shirts and trousers in some bright colours...such as red, pink or yellow...he is tagged by society as a freak, if not a pervert.
But women can put on different types of clothes with all the colours of the rainbow, and the designs of female clothing are outlandish, bold and unashamedly expressive of the beauty of the female body. And then there is facial makeup. If a man puts on even very light makeup, people will jeer at him, not necessarily and politely at his hack, but laughing at him outright in his face. If a man tries hard to keep his skin creamy white and silky smooth, his male companions will shun him, again treating him as a pervert.
ALL these social taboos are gone once when, as crossdresser, I put on women's clothes, and the fact that I was in female clothing enabled me to walk around...first only at night but later even at day....with NOTHING beneath my skirt. As the breeze around me blew into my skirt...filling it in from all directions like a balloon being blown up...I felt the air streams coming up to my butt cleavage, and everything there ...my penis, my butt cheeks and my asshole...felt refreshed and invigorated.
And then the way men treated me when I was in girls clothes was remarkably gentle, condescending and polite. When in men's clothes, I was just a plain-looking ordinary guy whom nobody even bothered to cast a single glance at me, but when I was in girls clothes...with makeup on...I got treated like a princess, with men gently holding my hand to help me cross over a drain, a slope or even up the stairs. Crossdressing brought to me this unspeakably warm, comforting feeling of being PROTECTED, and in that security...the umbrella of male domination...I felt like a little pussy cat...meowing and moaning...as I obediently took off my clothes to let the man play with my tits, my asshole, my penis and my whole body. A crossdresser enjoys in my view that most wonderful feeling of being touched all over, so that all the sensitive spots on my body were aroused and tuned to ecstasy in a way no man/boy could hope to experience in real life.
(Picture Above : Me dressed up beautifully in sexy lingerie to meet this online Facebook friend of mine, in the hope of having sex -- for the first time with a sophisticated, highly educated man, this music professor. But he denied me that.)
Whilst at the university, I felt free for the first time in my life. I was no longer under the tyrannical rule of Papa, since I lived at a university hostel at the expense of the government which had given me a scholarship because of my outstanding performance....straight As...in the matriculation examination, called STPM in Malaysia. Actually with that scholarship, I had some money to spare for buying skincare products, pretty clothes and heels for my obsessive-compulsive interest, which was crossdressing to be a girl to find men to have sex with me.
I went online at ladyboy websites/Facebook to find men to chat with, and had stunningly good results with my friends list added up to over 200 at different websites. I selected just three or four men....with good English and education...to chat with, and I found interacting with men of high intelligence most interesting. Most men are (still are) disastrously poor in English, and as a part-time English teacher myself I sort of looked down upon such men/boys, and considered them not to be worthy of any social interaction with me.
One friend...a mature man in his 40's...was so kind, understanding and intelligent that I decided to meet up with him in person. He was a college music professor, and he spoke very good English, writing with flowery oratory in all his messages to me. I put on a wig with shoulder-length hair...was in sexy lingerie...and then I met up with him...in my nice-looking 3-inch heels...at a hotel room of his choice.
Oh, his hands were so good at turning me on, touching me on all my soft, sensitive spots, like my nipples, neck, ear backs, butt cleavage, inner thighs and of course my tiny cock. As he was stripping me naked, he kept on saying that my skin was pretty, and that I looked every inch a girl, which pleased me immensely, because I so very much wanted to be a girl anyway.
After I had sucked him off on my knees at his feet, I asked him to fuck me in my asshole. Which he REFUSED because he told me frankly that he was afraid that I might have an S T D, sexually transmissible disease, of some sort. I sobbed because he so heartlessly said that, and he helped wiped off my tears, telling me that he would always like me to suck his penis with my tiny little mouth, and then he kept caressing my small hands with his big ones, turning me further on, literally setting me hot on flame. So I got down on my knees to BEG him to fuck me from behind, but still he denied me that satisfaction.
After that experience, I just chatted online with men, but never attempted to meet any one of them in person -- because the grim possibility of being denied the sexual satisfaction I needed was just too frustrating for me to face, and I chose not to have the same unpleasant experience ever again.
I was thoroughly enjoying myself as a crossdresser at university. I chose to stay clear of my female coursemates....who constituted 90 per cent of the students in the literature class I was in...and as soon as a lecture was over, I rushed...dashed... out of the lecture room/hall, not looking back, and straight I went back to my hostel room to study. The girls did not find me abnormal in any way, because they thought that boys studying literature...a girls' subject anyway...SHOULD be the way I was - shy, introverted and naturally sissy.
In the evening, I sometimes went swimming at an indoor university swimming pool with my breasts pressed way down and flat beneath my swimming suit to simulate the flat male chest illusion. There I let the boys...mostly from the engineering and science faculties...to have a good look at my nice-looking smooth, white skin, which tended to almost glitter with glamour under the down lights from the roof of the swimming pool.
Not surprisingly, I got hitched up with a few boys, all gay ones, who thought that I was gay like them. In fact, being gay is quite different from being transgender.
Whereas being transgender I liked living and becoming a girl, gay boys choose to stay the way they are, looking exactly the way they were born with... with no makeup or no girls clothes of any sort on...and basically, transgender people don't mix with gay people because we do have different , perhaps conflicting, sex orientations.
But then to find men to have sex with in the controlled, restricted environment of the university campus, we as transgender or gay people just couldn't afford to make such fine distinctions between being gay and being transgender.
We just got together and then we had some fun, usually oral sex, sometimes some anal sex, but only a few boys I met up with ever even attempted to penetrate me from behind, because as soon as they found that I had breasts, they lost interest in me.
Breasts, while attractive to all men, seem positively REPULSIVE to gay men, and if possible I chose to have my breasts pressed flat and down, pretending to have a normal male chest -- if I really wanted to succeed in getting on good terms of the gay boys I met up with at the university swimming pool.
In the gay community, having a strong hard penis is a big plus, because with such a powerful tool in between your legs, you have the option of either being '1', playing the dominant male role, or if you so wish, you can play '0', which is the submissive female role.
I told the boys that I liked putting on girls clothes and would ALWAYS play '0', and the boys liked that very much, because at least at my university, there were plenty of '1's' but not enough '0's', so the fact that I willingly always got down on my knees to suck their penis in my role as '0', I was quite popular.
The gay boys I met up with and became friends were all very bright students, staying consistently on top of their class. Gay boys in my view are mostly...if not all...gentle, understanding and smart, and I liked them very much because unlike straight boys, they could easily do girl talk, and tended to be able to have long, interesting conversation with on various topics like how to choose clothes, do skincare, and together, out there at a beach or at the fringe of a wood, we chatted and explored our inner feelings in a way straight men could never managed to do.
The sex games the gay boys played with me were also very gentle. They asked me to put on girls clothes, and then sometimes they splattered water onto my clothes with a toy water gun to get me soaked through, so they could see my small cock beneath my wet skirt, and then they gently hugged me, touched me there at my small cock, and kissed me...here and there, most gently... amidst the hissing sounds of the surging morning waves.
While at university, I did a very interesting job for a period of three months, during one of my end-of-the-term holiday breaks. I got myself hired as a waitress at a restaurant situated in a town which is far away from my university. That meant no one would ever recognize me there, as I was a total stranger in that locality. I very much liked putting on the uniform of a waitress, because the frills and patterns of the colourful, close-fitting waitress uniform made me look so sexily attractive -- and so very girl.
I attracted the attention of quite a number of male customers, and some of whom invited me to have dinner with them after my work hours. No sex was involved but that was the first time I had come out as a girl, not just a crossdresser pretending to be a girl at night.
At the candlelight dinner that my customers took me to at posh restaurants, I was treated like a real lady, with the man pulling out the chair for me to sit on. Then we chatted about life, work and our daily activities, among others.
I soon found that I liked MATURE, middle-aged men much more than young boys, because they were more understanding, worldly and humorous, whereas the boys just concentrated on my body, touching me...purposely without the basic pretense of saying something like 'Could I touch you there ?'...on my breasts and stroking me at my thighs.
Mature men would however just caress my hands, saying that they were small, white and pretty, and in the romantic atmosphere of the candlelight dinner...serenaded by light, delightful music...they often kissed me...lightly and only just... sending me into dreamy states of intoxication and infatuation as their bearded jaw touched me on my soft, sensitive cheeks.
I was living far away from home...from Papa, my stepfather...in my university years. Because of my very good result in my STPM (Higher School Certificate), I was able to get a full scholarship for all four years at university. I could even spare some cash for beautifying myself by buying skincare cream and makeup products, so that while crossdressing as a girl at night, I could look more convincingly as a girl -- not so easily read, as it were.
Previous to that, while at senior secondary school, I could ALWAYS easily read as a boy in minutes when I interacted with men on the street at night. This question : " Are you a boy or girl ?' was ALWAYS asked when I approached a man to see if he would like to have sex with me.
I am not tall...quite short at less than 5 feet 4 inches...but proportionally speaking, my legs are quite long, so while at university, I spend long hours on whitening and softening my legs, thereby making them the MOST attractive parts of my body, apart from my hands which are small and white.
When I approached men on the street, they were generally NOT interested in me if they just looked at my face, at least during the first two years of my university life, because I didn't take enough female hormones to give myself softer features.
.I was afraid that too much female hormone intake would dis-proportionally enlarge my breasts, and having large breasts was most inconvenient to me as a boy student at the university. But my legs, even with no whitening cream, looked pretty and longish, and as soon as men saw my legs...when I lifted up my skirt for them to see my small cock...they had a tremendous, rock-hard erection, which helped me to pick up an average of at least two men/boys per week on the street to have sex with me -- at public parks or back-street corner staircases.
I let my hair grow rather long, shoulder-length in fact, towards the end of my university study. I was taking more female hormones ...one full estrogen pill plus three contraceptive pills per day...and with the money I had saved from my full scholarship, I went to the clinic of a Malaysia doctor to have my unsightly brow bridge shaved low.
The removal of my brow bright gave me the typically flat, symmetrical look of the average female face, and my eyes looked much larger with my brow bridge having been removed. So my face became more feminine, and that typical high-brow-bridge-male-look was gone. I braided my long hair into a pony while attending lectures at day, as it is acceptable at the university for male students with long hair to have their hair pulled together and braided to form a long pony.
At night, however, I got my hair loose and down, allowing it to sort of flow on my shoulders, and I with that femme look, I really got all the fun I wanted as a girl. I went to bars, night clubs and neighbourhood gatherings in girls clothes, and not a single person....not even a woman...knew that I was a boy crossdressing as a girl. Before having my brow bridge removed, and before taking female hormone daily, WOMEN in particular easily read me, identifying me as a boy almost at first sight, which made me sort of purposely avoid meeting women while walking about the streets at night in girls clothes.
Female hormones made my skin very soft and smooth, and since I did not do outdoor exercise and seldom exposed my skin direct to the sun, my skin was very white. With that refreshingly feminine look, I was able to pick up almost any man/boy I met on the street, at no charge whatsoever to them of course, because I was looking for sex, not money.
But my breasts and nipples remained noticeably small by normal female standards, so that at 20, when I was about to take my final degree exam, my breasts had a measurement of less than 33 inches, and my nipples were little-red-bean-like, still small like a boy's. I did NOT mind that at all, because being a boy at day and a girl at night was such fun...giving me such great diversity and freedom...and I was thinking of remaining a crossdresser all my life. Life-changing MtF transition was NOT on my agenda.
At the time when I graduated from university (picture below) I was full of confidence, hope and expectancy. I was thinking of for ever living a double life, living and working as a man at day, and then having (much) sex, fun and pleasure at night as a woman. I did well in my final exam, and I have (theoretically still have - although my name is different now) a B.A. (Second Class Honours Upper Division ) in English Literature and Modern History.
I went home days after my graduation from university. I was thinking of finding a job because I now had a degree. But Papa had other plans for me.
He wanted me to work in Thailand as a ladyboy escort. I told him I wouldn't do that because I wanted to try living as a normal male, and I supposed I could somehow get hard if I didn't take any more female hormones. Papa was very angry at me for that.
He ordered me to kneel down and then I was spanked hard on my butt for disobedience. Still I resisted, refusing to work as a ladyboy escort. Papa got my cock wrapped up real tight...with layers upon layers bandages tied onto it, like a cacoon...and then he had my cock linked and wired up with a vibrator which sent strong vibrating currents...waves after waves of them...right onto...and indeed into...my cock.
I moaned and begged for mercy, but I told Papa that escort work was too humiliating, and furthermore I was a boy...soon to be a man if any girl should fall in love with me...working as a girl full time was not suitable --too humiliating.
I went down on my knees, sobbing and begging, hoping to be spared that painful vibration torture on my poor penis, but still Papa insisted on my becoming an escort, and so I underwent this kind of penis torture for two hours every afternoon, and another two hours at night before I slept.
My cock was consequently reduced to such a soft, limp lump that every day I couldn't stand to pee anymore, and must beg Papa for permission to sit down to pee like a girl, as otherwise the urine I was pissing out would dirty my thighs and feet, my penis being made by the vibration torture to become so very much RETRACTED that I just couldn't shoot out my urine, which must be leaked out, like a girl.
That made Papa happy, because he felt that I was acquiring the natural female way of peeing. But I was unhappy because I was thinking of living at day as a man, not as a girl, not to say a ladyboy escort,which was soooooo shameful.
So despite the pressure from Papa, and in spite of the daily punishment my poor pee pee was receiving, I insisted on applying for a DECENT job like any MAN. But I soon found that although my degree was good, finding a job was not that easy. The majority of Arts graduates become teachers, and indeed with my over four years of experience as a part-time teaching, I should have been most suitable for becoming a full-time teacher. That, however, was next to impossible because, in my physical condition...with small but well-developed breasts...I couldn't possibly pass any chest x-ray examination which is required of all full-time teachers at any type of school, public or private.
So I applied instead to work in the private sector, doing clerical/secretarial work. Again it was difficult, because I didn't study economics or accounting, and although I felt that I could manage intermediate-level accounting work, I lacked the academic qualifications needed for even filling in the application form. Then there was one more thing. Secretarial jobs employ mostly women and girls, and I was applying for such jobs as a man, so I was at a disadvantage.
Therefore for several months after I had got my degree, I just couldn't even get one job interview, not to say getting a job. Now that I was no longer on a government scholarship... which used to pay for daily expenses as well... I was again dependent on Papa for food, clothing and accommodation.
Papa said that had I not been on scholarship he would definitely have refused let me study at university. 'What does a ladyboy need an education for,' he kept saying. Papa had sex with me EVERY day and night since I returned home after graduation, and as he was stroking my nipples and small penis before he had me penetrated, he murmured to himself, saying,' You miss out your girl training all these four useless university years...I'll make you a girl again'
So even as I was busily sending in job application letters and forms, I was gradually going back to my old life as an obedient girl at home. After I had received my daily dose of penis retracting vibration...to get my penis smaller and softer...Papa again had my penis wrapped and bound tight, sometimes with elastic bandages, but quite often direct with a steel cock cage left over at home since my days as a sex slave of my schoolmates in my secondary school days.
And then after my breasts had been wrapped tight to, as usual, simulate the flat male chest, I had to put on a low cut T-shirt without collar, and the T-shirt was always in black or deep red to highlight the soft, white and smooth skin at my neck and chest. I needed to put on hot pants, with tubes so high up that they barely managed to cover my groin, at the border where my butt cheeks met my thighs. That was to let my neighours see that I had slender, white legs like a girl's, so that I was even more embarrassed.
In this sexy outfit, I did my housework like a girl again, the way I was used to in my secondary school days. Unavoidably my state of unemployment after graduation attracted the attention of my very nosy neighbours, middle-aged men and women who liked gossiping.
Papa asked me to kneel down to pour tea for them when they visited us, and when they asked me what I was doing during all these months after my graduation, I was so ashamed, feeling so embarrassed...but I must tell the truth...'I do embroidery, cooking, sewing and cleaning at home,' I said. They mocked at me, saying,'Yes a sissy like you shouldn't have wasted time and money on studying...you should stay at home to be gentle, quiet and obedient like a girl.' 'Can you get a job ? ' they often asked. I couldn't find a job, I said, but I was trying hard.
I had NO courage to just leave home to live on my own, and seeing that I was timid and shy as before, Papa was gradually more aggressive in disciplining me. Papa noted down the number of 'offences' I was committing daily...not wiggling my butt as I walked...not folding up my legs as I sat...forgetting to speak softly in femininely sharp tones...not keeping my skin white and smooth enough...and then at the weekend or on Sunday, 'as part of my training to be an obedient girl', Papa invited his close friends...all middle-aged, UNMARRIED men with a passion for ladyboys...to come to our home to witness the way I was punished for my 'disobedience' which in fact wasn't anything wrong - just that I was not felt to be girl enough.
Papa and his friends...up to seven of them at times...would require me to strip myself naked at the sitting room, where they sat on a long soft lined against the wall. Papa said,'He can't find a job after he had got his degree. Now his job is to train to be a girl.' So the men were checking whether I was doing my 'job' well, that is, training to be a girl.
But their requirements were so very tough. Some said that my nipples didn't turn hard fast enough while being pinched, squeezed or caressed by them. Some complained that my butt cheeks weren't bubble-like enough. Most said that my penis was still much too long and large...at three inches plus when stroked to become hard...and then I was hand spanked butt bare on their knees...in turns...for such acts of 'gross disobedience.'
Papa kept me on diet to keep my weight at no more than 112 lbs, and in particular, my legs MUST be kept white, smooth and without the slightest traces of hairs or hair stubs. And then he insisted that I must be whipped with a rod on my thighs in the presence of my neighbours...men, women, boys and girls...if I didn't do my housework well enough. A meal not prepared delicious enough...or shoes not polished shining enough..or just that when I was asked to wash the feet of the young teenage sons of my neighbours, I made the water too hot/cold...all that would cause me to be whipped towards the end of each month, when the neighbours would gather at our home to read the Bible in housegroup.
The red whipping marks left on my thighs caused me to be mocked at by the sons of my neighbours, and they all said in my face that a university graduate like me was worse than trash. And then Papa invited boys as young as 10 to take part in having my legs whipped -- and then I MUST cry, sob and beg for mercy before the boys would stop having me whipped. I must be the only adult male university graduate who was whipped and disciplined by teenage boys in such humiliating manner.
All THAT was just too hard for me to bear...and so one day when Papa was not home, I packed my bag...stole some of Papa's money...and sneaked out of home -- never to return.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
While at university, I took a special interest in boy students at the engineering faculty. They were on average about 5'9" and were a bit taller...therefore looking smarter and better... than the boys in other departments. Visiting the engineering faculty was safe for me as the engineering faculty campus is miles away from the Arts Faculty main building where I attended lectures in literature and history. Nobody would ever know that I was a crossdressing boy student from the same university.
On Saturday afternoons when there was generally no lecture across the university campus, I took an inter-link campus bus to reach the lush lawns surrounding the main buildings of the engineering department.
I put on girls clothes and some light makeup...braided and parted my hair in the middle, schoolgirl style, and to my hair were attached two fake ponies which brushed and swayed in the light afternoon breeze, touching my shoulders and back -- thereby making myself look cute and young, like a secondary school girl in the prime of youth .
I met up with at least one...sometimes two...Facebook friends from the department. They knew that I was a ladyboy, but did not know that I was also a student at the same university.
The two boys I met up with were dark, strong and athletic, having very coarse skin with...oh, so very 'man'... thick hairs on their arms and legs, which I liked because they looked so very sexy indeed. Some small classrooms were left unlocked on Saturdays for private study reasons.
The boys liked to see how I bound up my cock in front of them, showing that I was willing and ready to submit to them as a girl, and was prepared to be fucked like a girl. That voluntary, self-bondage-style cock-binding was important since most boys wouldn't like to see a small-sized ladyboy like me to get hard at any time. My penis must be made to look soft and limp before the fun I needed could ever begin.
In the serene solemnity of the university classroom, I was ordered to pee with my legs parted wide, me standing up to pee like any boy and yet having my cock bound over ...and into... my butt cleavage with an elastic bandage that got my testicles and penis very tightly stuck...yes glued... together as if they were one.
The boys enjoyed seeing the embarrassment I went through in trying desperately hard to avoid having the urine I pissed or leaked out dirtying my legs -- and the urine was indeed being leaked out just in bits most of the time from my small penis, which was kept locked within the tight grasp of my hand. The boys said that I must squeeze my penis into as small a lump as possible while I was urinating or they wouldn't care to fuck me. So I obediently did that because I needed to have their manhood inside me, sooooo very very much.
Then they said,' Slut, pee all you can with your uselessly soft penis !' That was meant to humiliate me, but somehow that kind of humiliation turned me on, particularly because they called me a 'slut' which I really wanted to be at any cost during those unforgettable moments.
I pulled and stroked my penis until I began peeing, and down the pee went direct onto the floor, dirtying it -- and in so doing gave, in a twisted sort of way, the boys the needed stimulus to make their penis hard enough to penetrate me -- right there atop two student study desks being joined together to form a bed for me.
My moans and pleas for mercy while being (brutally) penetrated broke the dead silence in the menacing solemnity of the quantum physics research room -- and in breaking THAT solemnity I felt a tremendous sense of self-fulfillment and vindication of myself as being a well-liked, popular ladyboy among engineering students.
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