Guest stories

A Transvestite's Fantasy

By sylvain (sabine)

For those who do not know me, I am a submissive transvestite. Please allow me to tell you what one of my greatest fantasies is. And from speaking with other transvestites in my area, this fantasy is quite common.

My fantasy begins on a Saturday, around ten in the morning. I have been up since six because I was too high strung to keep on sleeping. You see, the day before, I went to the beauty parlour for a complete waxing of the legs, chest, and back, in order for me to look as feminine as possible. I open the door to four girl friends that have just arrived. I have been expecting them. After the greetings, I am sent to take a scented bath. One of my friends bathes me, scrubbing me, giving me a shoulder massage (much needed). She also shaves me as closely as possible without abrading my skin or cutting me. Somehow, this morning, I end up being shaved better than any other time before.

It takes a while, but after an hour under the ministrations of my friend, I come out of the bathroom clean, refreshed, and smelling of lavender and roses. Meanwhile, my other friends have been preparing my clothes. And one of these friends is a semi-professional make-up artist…

We have lunch all together, but I have difficulty taking more than a few bites because of the excitement: today, everything is about me!

After lunch, my friends begin to prepare me for what is coming up later on. You see, today, I become a bride…

Now, I must begin to dress. Among the clothes I will wear, as is the tradition, I have included: something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. White wrist length stretch lace gloves, a white garter belt, a white pillbox hat with a small veil, and light blue satin panties.

I put these on, plus the other items. First, to hide my real nature, a white satin gaff to tuck me in. Next, white stockings held up by the garter belt. Then, a white and gold brocade waist cincher to trim my waist a little. The panties go on, followed by a white bra to hold my breast forms. I am getting cold, as the air conditioning unit has been working full blast for a while. But I don't complain, as I know that I will welcome the cool temperature later on. And this simply gives my friends an excuse to pet and caress me.

Now, my make-up artist friend goes to work. For years now, I have been keeping my eyebrows depilated in a finer way than most men, but not quite arched enough to attract undue attention, and this helps my friend in achieving the transformation. Playing with her color palette, she makes my cheekbones a little higher, she reduces the size of my chin and my nose, she arches my eyebrows even higher, she makes my eyes look larger, she softens my face… The wig goes on, a beautiful chestnut-coloured head of long wavy hair that looks like I just came out of the hairdresser's. I look in the mirror, and I have trouble believing it is really me I am seeing…

While I was being made up, my three other friends were getting dressed. They will be my bridesmaids, and their dresses are all the same: light pink, almost white, simple dresses that reveal just enough to make them look like they will be the next ones to tie up the knot. They now help me to put the dress on: satin bodice with a prude round collar, puffed-shoulder elbow-length tulle sleeves, and a taffeta skirt that brushes the floor all around me, all white of course. Under the skirt, a ten-layer petticoat makes the skirt stand out to a six-foot circle. At the back, a large satin bow holds a short train in place. I put the gloves on, and my make-up artist friend, who has just finished changing into her dress, puts the hat and a large veil on my head. One-inch heel white satin pumps complete the ensemble.

I look at the clock: it is ten minutes before two in the afternoon. My father arrived about fifteen minutes ago; he has always been supportive in my self-explorations, and he is more than happy to help me realize one of my dreams by giving this bride away. In his tuxedo, he looks like an aristocrat. The limousine will be here in ten minutes, and we are expected at a rented reception hall at half past two, where a local Dominant friend will be performing the mock ceremony. The groom is a bisexual friend of mine, and he has promised to treat me like a lady at the ceremony and reception afterwards, and as a hot-blooded woman for the following thirty-six hours.

I can't wait for the night…