Early years of guilt feelings with no one to talk with
Posted: Mon Oct 04, 2010 6:19 pm
Being new here to th forum I've read some first crossdressing stories that talk about shame and guilt. I wanted to share my experience with this also....
Oh the shame and guilt of it all growing up and cross dressing in the 50’s and early 60’s.
My guilt feelings of early cross-dressing and wearing my mother’s stockings and heels in secret had many effects on me looking back. My feeling shame and guilty or thinking I was a bad boy I know may even have been a factor to a speech problem of stuttering when I was very young.
My father was a very strong man, WWII vet that had seen it all. My mother a very strict figure that handled punishment her own way with out having to wait till your father gets home. I feared them both and strived to be the good boy.
I guess like many families in the fifties sex was never talked about in my home, and if anyone needed information on the subject it for sure would be me. Hormones were building and I first felt those funny feeling in my tummy at such a young age.
I remember being caught laying on the floor watching TV “wiggling” as my mother called it, doing what boys do when they first discover it feels good to touch and rub it. I remember being yanked up off the floor and over her lap for a hard spanking, and told never to do that or play with myself, if I did it would lead to making it bleed, and bleed so bad you would not be able to stop it.
I was horrified at the thought. I never forgot her words and every time I felt that feeling I fought it dearly. As I got older I would hide in the bathroom, door locked for any wiggling play out of the sight of my mother. Of course the bathroom was also my safe place to wear, touch and worship my mother’s nylons she always had in the hamper or on the towel rods in private.
One day it happened, I was lost in the moment of wiggling on the bathroom floor using my mother’s smooth stockings under me as I loved the sensation more than anything. I lost all feeling in my legs and could hardly breathe as I felt my whole body numb with an experience I could not fathom. Laying there catching my breath is when I first felt that warm wet sensation under me. I was shocked at the sight and discovery and started to panic at the thoughts my mother burned in my head since young, “You will make it bleed!”
I truly had no idea what had just happened and started to cry with the dilemma I had before me. I wanted to run to my mother thinking I hurt myself but the fear of my actions and her response was even more frightening. I saw that my bleeding, or what ever it was had stopped and I quickly hid my mothers stockings into my jean pockets praying my mother would not notice one pair of many of her stockings missing. That night and next couple of days was torture for me thinking my mother might discover her nylons missing, which lucky for me she never did.
Of course I thought less of myself and felt guilty of my actions more than ever as I had done something so wrong and was hiding it. Even in church I was afraid to look up at the alter thinking God knows everything and he saw my actions and what happened. I loved and hated church. I would struggle in church as back in the late 50’s and early 60’s all the women would dress up to the nines. I fought looking at all the women’s legs encased in the sheerest of nylons and beautiful high heels and fought off of my nylon fetish and cross dressing thoughts as best I could.
I was 12 the first time I really was left home alone from not going to school one day. By then my weakness and fetish was in full bloom, hormones heighten to the max. I was able to dress up for hours and find a pleasure that I knew I could not stop or want to.
I guess my desire to wear my mother’s lingerie was even stronger than the fear of my secret being discovered. But I was so careful of every move I made. When ever left home alone and entering my mother’s bedroom I would study the room and make sure everything I touched or moved was returned exactly as I found it. I became quite good at folding my mother’s lingerie back in the drawers. Those silky thin nylon slips, girdles and high heel shoes in the closet were replaced back all in the exact same position and direction. I learned trying to refold nylon stockings back into the boxes was a nightmare and I learned to only wear my mother’s well worn stockings I found in her hamper, as they already would show wear, and even had the garter tab embossed in the stockings welts from her wearing them the full day before. I would even hook my garter tabs in the exact same marked locations left on the stocking welts.
But as careful as one may be I was not perfect. It would be several years later into my early teens before an Aunt discovered my secret. I was able to talk to someone and finally share my deepest secret. But that is another story and chapter in my life. That was also the start of finally feeling somewhat less guilty of my actions and about still being a good person.
When I had children (2 boys) I always said I would be there for them and they would never have to experience what I went through. When I knew they were at that discovery age sexually I made them feel at comfort with information and the normal issues they were feeling.
Wow I’ve may have run on here a little long....sorry.
Oh the shame and guilt of it all growing up and cross dressing in the 50’s and early 60’s.
My guilt feelings of early cross-dressing and wearing my mother’s stockings and heels in secret had many effects on me looking back. My feeling shame and guilty or thinking I was a bad boy I know may even have been a factor to a speech problem of stuttering when I was very young.
My father was a very strong man, WWII vet that had seen it all. My mother a very strict figure that handled punishment her own way with out having to wait till your father gets home. I feared them both and strived to be the good boy.
I guess like many families in the fifties sex was never talked about in my home, and if anyone needed information on the subject it for sure would be me. Hormones were building and I first felt those funny feeling in my tummy at such a young age.
I remember being caught laying on the floor watching TV “wiggling” as my mother called it, doing what boys do when they first discover it feels good to touch and rub it. I remember being yanked up off the floor and over her lap for a hard spanking, and told never to do that or play with myself, if I did it would lead to making it bleed, and bleed so bad you would not be able to stop it.
I was horrified at the thought. I never forgot her words and every time I felt that feeling I fought it dearly. As I got older I would hide in the bathroom, door locked for any wiggling play out of the sight of my mother. Of course the bathroom was also my safe place to wear, touch and worship my mother’s nylons she always had in the hamper or on the towel rods in private.
One day it happened, I was lost in the moment of wiggling on the bathroom floor using my mother’s smooth stockings under me as I loved the sensation more than anything. I lost all feeling in my legs and could hardly breathe as I felt my whole body numb with an experience I could not fathom. Laying there catching my breath is when I first felt that warm wet sensation under me. I was shocked at the sight and discovery and started to panic at the thoughts my mother burned in my head since young, “You will make it bleed!”
I truly had no idea what had just happened and started to cry with the dilemma I had before me. I wanted to run to my mother thinking I hurt myself but the fear of my actions and her response was even more frightening. I saw that my bleeding, or what ever it was had stopped and I quickly hid my mothers stockings into my jean pockets praying my mother would not notice one pair of many of her stockings missing. That night and next couple of days was torture for me thinking my mother might discover her nylons missing, which lucky for me she never did.
Of course I thought less of myself and felt guilty of my actions more than ever as I had done something so wrong and was hiding it. Even in church I was afraid to look up at the alter thinking God knows everything and he saw my actions and what happened. I loved and hated church. I would struggle in church as back in the late 50’s and early 60’s all the women would dress up to the nines. I fought looking at all the women’s legs encased in the sheerest of nylons and beautiful high heels and fought off of my nylon fetish and cross dressing thoughts as best I could.
I was 12 the first time I really was left home alone from not going to school one day. By then my weakness and fetish was in full bloom, hormones heighten to the max. I was able to dress up for hours and find a pleasure that I knew I could not stop or want to.
I guess my desire to wear my mother’s lingerie was even stronger than the fear of my secret being discovered. But I was so careful of every move I made. When ever left home alone and entering my mother’s bedroom I would study the room and make sure everything I touched or moved was returned exactly as I found it. I became quite good at folding my mother’s lingerie back in the drawers. Those silky thin nylon slips, girdles and high heel shoes in the closet were replaced back all in the exact same position and direction. I learned trying to refold nylon stockings back into the boxes was a nightmare and I learned to only wear my mother’s well worn stockings I found in her hamper, as they already would show wear, and even had the garter tab embossed in the stockings welts from her wearing them the full day before. I would even hook my garter tabs in the exact same marked locations left on the stocking welts.
But as careful as one may be I was not perfect. It would be several years later into my early teens before an Aunt discovered my secret. I was able to talk to someone and finally share my deepest secret. But that is another story and chapter in my life. That was also the start of finally feeling somewhat less guilty of my actions and about still being a good person.
When I had children (2 boys) I always said I would be there for them and they would never have to experience what I went through. When I knew they were at that discovery age sexually I made them feel at comfort with information and the normal issues they were feeling.
Wow I’ve may have run on here a little long....sorry.
I flew under the radar and never got outed. Like Ms Denier I always made sure things got back to where they belonged. Aways careful to not soil any of the clothing. There were accidents early on. 