You couldn't take it anymore. You had to be free of her.
It made you feel physically sick to be Mikayla. Not whilst you were her of course... it was afterwards. Afterwards when you slid off her perfect skin and returned to being yourself. Afterwards when you lay in bed feeling guilty and wrong for the evil you had committed.
But then the hunger and addiction to become her, to be free of guilt and take pleasure in the suffering of others filled you. You would become her again and the cycle of pleasure and disgust would start again.
You had found the skin in a trunk of a house you were renovating, hidden behind a wall in the attic. The owner of the house seemed to know nothing about the trunk. You stole the skin and took it home with you.
You had no idea where Mikayla had come from. Was she a real woman who had been turned into a magic skin, an experimental nano-suit, or something else? It didn't really matter.
All that mattered was that when you slid open the skin and climbed inside, you BECAME her.
First you'd push your legs inside, marvelling at how soft and hairless your legs were. Brown and tanned, perfectly long and sexy. Next you'd pull her ass and midriff over your crotch. Somehow all your fat and extra weight would melt away and you'd be left with her tiny waist and perfect plump ass. Your cock would be gone, Mikayla's perfect pussy now between your legs.
As you pulled the skin up the best bit was about to happen. Mikayla's tits were so big that even empty they could be seen on the skin - but as you tugged them into place they would grow and inflate. You'd moan as Mikayla's big tits bounced on your chest and you'd pushed your arms into hers.
All that was left was to pull over the face and the hair with your new manicured hands. Your body was now entirely feminine and somehow you fit inside this tiny thin skin. As you groaned and felt Mikayla's face fit to yours her hair would root into your scalp and the physical transformation was complete.
But that still left the mental changes.
When you wore the skin you would become Mikayla. Her arrogance, her hunger for sex and power and her cruel and manipulative personality would become yours. You felt your lips twist into an evil grin as you became the most evil bitch imaginable. You became pure evil.
It was only afterwards when you took off the skin that the full enormity of what you'd become and what you'd done as her would hit you.
***
And yet you couldn't stop...
GLUG, GLUG, MMMMPPHHH
Your bullies big fat cock felt good in your mouth.
NO... Mikayla's mouth.
You could feel the tip of his magnificent dick tickling your tonsils and your blonde hair, tied up in a pony tail was swishing as you deep throated him and looked up with lust filled eyes.
You knew that later you'd be sickened by what you were doing here, but right now as Mikayla it felt so fucking good.
Brandon grunted as he pushed his cock deeper. "Fuck yeah, take it baby. You're the best slut I've ever had."
You moaned submissively, your tight pussy already wet at the thought of Brandon bending you over and fucking you hard. You loved what a mean powerful bully he was. You loved watching him beat on boys that outside of this skin were actually your friends.
It made Mikayla's pussy drip... too bad it made male you feel so sick afterwards.
***
You purred as Brandon began to cum in your mouth. Fuck yessssss. Sucking and slurping you giggled as cum oozed down your throat and you ate every drop like a good girl.
You were a slut for your bully and you wanted more. This was going to be a fun afternoon...
"Fuck me baby. Fuck me and don't stop."
Brandon looked at you suspiciously as you told him about Mikayla. You'd wrestled with how to deal with this situation and decided that if you couldn't develop enough mental strength to resist putting on the skin again, you could at least prevent Mikayla from fucking Brandon anymore.
You couldn't take it anymore. Waking up as you to remember how Brandon had fucked all your holes just made you feel sick.
By telling your bully the truth, you were hopefully making her unattractive to him. Surely Brandon would no longer want to fuck Mikayla if he knew you were inside her. Surely it would stop her.
Opening the box you kept Mikayla safe in, you revealed the skin to prove it and Brandon's eyes widened in shock as he realised you were telling the truth.
Then his grin turned wicked. "Give that here," he exulted grabbing Mikayla out of your hands.
You watched in horror as Brandon took Mikayla and put her on. Seeing someone else step into the skin was strange. That was YOUR skin - but you realised with a horrible feeling of loss that it wasn't anymore.
Mikayla had a new host now... your bully. He moaned and gasped in pleasure as Mikayla's big tits attached to his chest and he pulled her face into place. He shook back her long blonde hair and laughed as he felt her pussy and tits.
"Hahah you fucking loser," he purred in Mikayla's sexy voice. "I feel incredible. Why would you ever tell anyone about this? Haha you idiot."
Brandon was the perfect wearer for Mikayla. Unburdened by conscience, uncaring of how evil he was when he put her on. Brandon loved being a cocksucking slutty bitch who got what she wanted.
And now that your dilemma was solved, you felt an unbearable desire to become Mikayla again.
Too bad you never would. You just weren't suited to her anymore...
Carrie was a plain girl, in every sense of the word. Her features were unremarkable, her hair a mousy brown, and her body curvy in all the wrong places. She worked in an office, filing papers and fetching coffee for her boss, Mr. Jenkins. Her days were spent in a state of constant invisibility, blending seamlessly into the dull, grey background of the office. It was as if she were a ghost, haunting the halls and cubicles, invisible yet omnipresent.
One day, as she was cleaning Mr. Jenkins' office, she found a box of pantyhose in his desk drawer. They were black, lacy, and expensive-looking. The allure was remarkable. She ran off to the bathroom to try them on.
As she slipped the soft material up her legs, she felt a thrill of excitement course through her veins. The pantyhose were impossibly silky against her skin, and the lace band at her thighs made her feel deliciously naughty. Carrie covered her mouth in the bathroom stall as she held back the involuntary moan.
She imagined herself running the company one day, making her boss give her a raise. The selfish thoughts were completely new to her but made her body shiver with excitement. Carrie’s hand with a life of its own traveled to her now wet sex.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she touched herself, visualizing herself as the powerful woman she felt she could be. The pantyhose felt like an extension of her skin, almost as if they were a part of her. She let out a soft moan, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom.
As her fingers danced over her swollen clit, her body began to change. Her breasts grew larger, more defined, straining against the confines of her shirt. Her hips widened, her waist narrowed, and her legs lengthened. She felt stronger, more confident than ever before.
Her mousy brown hair became black and long, framing her face in soft waves. It bounced playfully as she moved, emphasizing her new curves. Her ass became juicy, round, and firm, accentuated by the lacy pantyhose. She felt powerful and irresistible.
As she reached the peak of her orgasm, her other hand explored the lacy fabric of the pantyhose, feeling the soft material against her skin. It was as if the pantyhose were a part of her, amplifying her sensations, her confidence. She arched her back, moaning loudly, the sound echoing in the bathroom.
She straightened up, breathing heavily, and took a moment to admire herself in the mirror. The girl looking back at her was nothing like the plain, invisible Carrie she had been only moments ago. She was now a striking, confident woman, her features accentuated by the makeup she'd hastily applied. Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders, framing her face, and her body was outlined perfectly by the lacy pantyhose. She looked powerful, sexy, and in control.
“From now on you get what you want!” Carrie said to herself as she walked with vigor to Mr. Jenkins office.
I love these as a communication method in a community, as carriers of meaning, as expressions of joy at being yourself and finding comfort and pleasure in you own things.
Once You have him pantied (Step #1), and Manscaped (Step #2), we move forward to pantyhose.
Even beautiful women, who don't need to wear pantyhose; understand their appeal and affect on the male. Men are visually stimulated, but we are going to continue to have him feel "encased" in feminine finery (silk/satin).
You need to lay the groundwork. Whenever he is pantied, You should be in dress/skirt with pantyhose. We want him to take notice of you and the pantyhose.
When we move to the bedroom, make him remove them. Allow him to see you with panties and pantyhose; let his psyche absorb the image. Then continue with your "great nights".
You want to start imprinting the concept of panties & pantyhose together. Initially, you will need to show off your assets, to get his mind focused on what you want.
You can decide the best way to do that. You should make sure to tease him, rub your smooth legs against him as much as possible. Create a desire.
Then you are ready to add pantyhose to his wardrobe. As with panties, start slowly; on weekends. Move to once a week, eventually daily. We want him ENCASED in femininity.
If he can't manscape his leg hair, then use 2 pair of pantyhose. The effect is amazing.
Soon he will desire them (and you) intensely. Then we can show him, that wearing pantyhose under clothes is awesome; including yourself. Go shopping, pantyhose under his jeans, let him feel it.
Soon, he will want more and more feminization.
If you found this article helpful please reblog. There are many Cross-Dressers & their Wives who need to know. Comments are welcome; please be nice, so I can learn to improve.
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