The Ritual
The Ritual.
Another waffle on by Julia Kat.
Iya.Ah zit gu in?Yo reyt?Bi tayters innit.
Just a bit of Yorkshire language for you there for my fellow Yorkshire gurls.Roughly translated in English that would be "hello".
Oh yessssss anyway,yes,this ritual we have,a ritual it is indeed,and a fantastic wonderful bliss filled one at that.
For once Im being serious,which means I will come out in a rash or something later.Probably.Maybe.Dont worry I cant be serious for long so it wont last.
But yes,the ritual.......
As you know us Cd/tvs do have a packed life to say the least,but what you may not know is what goes on behind the scenes.You might only get to see a few minutes footage or us knocking one out on the bus,ravaged by puppets or half an hour of being dressed as a bunny girl while being gang banged by carrots or something and think thats all there is to it.
You just cant make this stuff up can you.
Anyway,what you dont see,is our ritual of getting ready.Please dont underestimate what a big deal this is to us.It is huge,magnificient,wondrous,gorgeous,its just happiness happening.
Now I know all us Cds are different,we all have our own unique ritual of getting ready for going out or doing a shoot,so this one is mine....
Now imagine Ive been off working on contract for months,or years sometimes.Its been male clothes and pretending to be male by altering my walk to get rid of my fat arse swinging side to side when I walk like it does for some weird reason,trying to talk deeper (and forgetting most of the time) and to not talk with my hands,to be less animated,and keep those wrists up!
Awful awful awful.
All my nails are broke,Ive some new scars,my hands feel like theyre made out of leather and Ive had to wear yucky male clothes the whole time,and as you know male clothes are all made out of loft insulation,itching powder,fiberglass,plague,fag ash and dogs arses.Awful.
Not biased.
Fact.
PLUS I have to shop in the boys section as they dont make male clothes small enough for me,which I do find hugely insulting.And anyway they just dont ever fit me.
Nothing at all like womens clothing which are all made from kitten kisses,butterfly hugs,bunny cuddles,spiced with jasmin and Rosemary,plus at least 12 hours of sex goes into the making of each and every mini dress.
Not biased.
Fact.
Now imagine stripping off the plague clothes.Stomping all over them before kicking them into the corner so they can think about what theyve done.Then its a painfull nude walk into the bathroom as cant bare to have my feet flat to the floor.
You fill the sink with warm water,take your lady razor with swively head to get into all those fun parts,and click in a new head.
As you always use a new head on the razor.
Now being blonde,Im not hairy at all really.Apart from pits and pubic bits and a bit on my legs so I only have to shave about two or three times a year.
Put it this way,I have been trying to grow a beard for 47 years now,Im still waiting.
But you cant see blonde hairs anyway,and theyre soft so no biggy really,but I am paranoid they may be a stray hair somewhere!!!!!Really am paranoid about that.So I rub ladies shaving gel all over my fun parts,as thats where I always start,which by the way is wonderful.It makes your skin feel cool and tingly,like your skin is smiling,and you end up so smooth you could use me as a lining for a frying pan.Its seriously good stuff.
I always start with the fun parts,as they are the most awkward to get to,and so begins the weird yoga poses with little magnyging mirror on a stand on the floor as I slowly drag the cold wet blades over my skin.Yes we even do the downward dog pose when we get to the trademans entrance too.
The other wonderful thing about ladies shaving gel is it makes your shopping bags tighten right up tight,like you are about to cum,which feels lovely,plus,makes them easier to run a shaver over too.
Bonus!
Then I do my arms and pits etc which is a waste of time really as theres never anything there,dont bother with chest or stomach as nothing there anyway,or arms....backs of hands,bum cheeks etc...and so on,saving the best while last-my legs.
I dont know why,but there is something really erotic about shaving your legs.You place one leg up on the toilet seat or the side of the bath,brush the shaving gel on,do a little "oo!" as it chills and tingles,then slowly drag the cold wet blades up and over your legs,as you stand there with everything hanging out and on display,as you are pretty much in the presenting position.But there really is something sexy and highly erotic about shaving your legs,I just dont know what.Then you stand and twist to drag the wet blades over the back of your thighs,always running up and over your bum for no reason at all,except its nice.
But by now,blood is being diverted south wards as you are infact turning yourself on BIG TIME.Which again is just a part of the ritual.
But before you give yourself a treat,you turn on the shower and slowly step in,letting the warm water run over you.Its such a contrast to the coolness of the shaving gel,and makes the little hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention and tingle.
Oh yeah.
As you rub the shower gel in,it amazes you how silky smooth you are now,its like your hands just slip and slide over you like never before.
We should really have a "slippery when wet" sign stapled to us.
Ofcourse you seem to spend a lot of time soaping your cock up,not that its huge,no bragging honestly,its becouse we are just playing with ourselves truth be told.I dont know why we cant leave the damn thing alone for two minutes but there you go.
Then we soap up around our bum,which is my fave part of the shower bit.I love that slippery creamy finger running over my puss,Im always suprised by how long my hole it feels,doesnt feel like a hole,more like a trench.Probably a bad choice of words there.
But as I slide my middle finger down again over it slowly as my other fingers spread my bum cheeks,my puss parts a little as if expecting my finger to pop in for tea.
It does.
Out goes a little gasp,as its probably been a while since anything was up there.And opps,another slippery finger has fell in.How did,that happen?!
Oh and then another,till you are standing there sighing with one hand on the cold tiles with the warm water running over you as you just stand there propping yourself up as you just finger yourself silly in the shower.
Why does anal feel just so good?
Usually about now someone walks in and uses the toilet,as cant have any privacy for like two minutes can we!
I swear its like open house here sometimes.
But I carry on as dont care by now and everyones seen it already so why not.
So after a little fingering,and soaping the rest of us up,sometimes doing a saucy little pole dance as we soap up,we rinse off.
Again leaving possibly the best for last-soaping your legs up.It seems so erotic for some strange reason,as you run your hands up and over your legs,then up and over or around your fun parts as if teasing yourself.Oh that is nice.Poor cock is usually starting to ache its so swollen and demanding attention.
But no.
As we shower it all off with the handheld dildo bit of the shower,handset I think its called.We just call it the dildo bit.
And yes,sometimes (most times) you slide it into you,and as it does go up into you,you let it slowly fill you up with warm water,watching your belly inflate slowly with the warm water while running your other hand over your belly while being amazed at just how hot the water feels inside us,just like when someone pee's inside you.Then you let out a giggle as you look down and appear pregnant.Cant help but giggle at that.Its funny for so many reasons.
I never force the water out,I know a lot like to blast the water out of their pussys like a water cannon,but I like to just stand there with the water running over my hair and down my back as I stand with legs apart hands on the wall as if being frisked,and let it just run out of me of its own accord and down the back of my legs.It just feels more natural and sensual that way,and kinda reminds you of being cummed in.You know,that guilty shamey walk home in the cold and dark when some strangers cum in you earlier and now its running down the back of your stockings from out of your puss when you cant hold it in anymore,or youve been in for a pretty bad session and youre still gaped as you walk along.Yep that walk of shame from after youve been a bad gurl yet again,by letting someone have their wicked way with you,and have no idea where your knickers ended up after the whoever it was chucked them somewhere in the throws of passion shall we say.
I wouldnt mind but they arent cheap you know.
Im not made of money.
Just saying.
But its not pervy shoving the handset up yourself honestly,I just like to be clean inside and out aswell.
Honestly.
Thats all.
Really.
Yes.
I think I got away with that.
Yep that was convincing.Sure of it.
Then its hair washing time.Out with the shampoo,and rinse.I know look like a drowned rat and cant see a thing as my fringe is over my eyes.Then its on with the conditioner which I always rub all over my body as well,as it does seem to make my skin feel softer,and I do like to feel nice to touch or hold,caress etc.As being a cd we all try our best with whatever little we have for you all you know.And I think I should feel nice soft smooth and squiggy to hold and whathaveyou.I mean if it helps make just one person happy,why not.
I like to think thats the reason Im here after all.If not its not a bad reason I dont think.
Then its rinse and on with the hair thickener...and then some more....and a bit more.....and why not a tad more....and what....is that all that you get in the bottle?!?
As my hair has no body to it at all.Non.It may as well be painted on.
Then its rinse and we are done.A pat down with the soft fluffy towel,fresh off the line ofcourse as it makes us feel a bit more connected with nature as it smells of flowers and cut grass.Lovely.
Then teeth brushing,before finishing off with tooth polish as it leaves our teeth silky smooth.I know,but I just think if someones going to get their tongue,or other parts in there,it should feel nice and smoothy.Or maybe Im being a mental person.
I have been told I am.
Often.
Infact youd be suprised how often.
But if youre used to reading my posts,then probably not.
Then its a very quick scurry back to the bedroom as its usually freezing going "brrrrrrrrrr" all the way back.
Well Ive not won the lottery this week so cant afford to put the heating on for an hour can I!
By the way,did you know a grown man can hear a thermostat being turned up from over three miles away,even in high wind?
Strange but true.
I do believe that is their super power.
Now this is where this really turns into utter bliss.......
I usually wrap the towel around my boobs and go and have a cuppa and a fag next.I usually stand at the open french doors at the back of the house while having a smoke,with one leg up on the step which makes the gap in the towel open up,like a thigh high split in a evening dress.Always gets me going that does.
Ofcourse I cant be trusted can I,as its not long before I pull the split open even more exposing my cock.
I just stand there,leg and cock on show through the split in the towel as if the towel is a dress or something,not caring who can see,as I finish my fag,usually with a full erection by now.And you just stand there looking down on it and just want to hit it.
Hard.
Or maybe thats just me.
But no time for that anyway,as its back up the stairs to the bedroom,remembering how nice it is to let my bum do its natural waddle from side to side as I go up the stairs.
Its funny what you miss.
Then,oh I adore this bit,painting my nails.Does it get any better than that?!Oh I really do love this bit.
I always like to mix it up,so I try to remember what colour they were last time and choose a different one.My fave colour was silver with bits of glitter in it.Loved that one.Red is my next fave as I am lost in the 50s showgirl look.Or black if Im in 'that' mood.
I love this bit so much,leg up on the dressing table,with the towel falling apart exposing my bits again,I know its like a desease or something,as I slowly dip the brush and stroke on the colour.
You dont 'paint' your nails,you 'stroke' it on.
The transformation makes you smile inside,the smell of the chemicals is like a little high as you try and paint the tiny nails on your feet.As my feet are very small and the nails even smaller!Not easy,especially with blurryvision.
Then as they dry I put them up on the desk and admire them for a while,just smiling away to myself like a mental person.
I am starting to notice a theme here.
Then its painting my finger nails after Ive cut and filed them into whatever shape I feel like.I used to file them to a point,but have ruined no end of stockings that way,so nowadays I file them with a flat on the end.
I just love how my hands change with just such a simple application of paint.Gone are the yucky old hands,and on with the lovely dainty deft fingers and hands.Then its just sit back,feet up as we gently blow blow blow our finger nails dry,always with our fingers curled over,never straight.
Dont know why though.
Odd.
Once dry next up is eyebrow maintainance.We have a special mirror and tweezers just for this job.You can tell which they are,as they are to one side,sat apart from our makeup mountain in the dressing table,usually to one side of our massive pile of makeup brushes.Our makeup brushes are always just chucked in a pile any old how,yet the tweezers for this one task sit alone and some distance from all over makeup like a queen sits apart from her subjects.
Being a bit overly dramatic there sorry.
Oh while Im on about these magical tweezers,you should know two things.
Now us cds are not tolerant people,no,we are more like accepting people.We dont tolerate certain groups or other,we just accept them for who or what they are.So we are an easy going bunch,and we do our very best to make the most of ourselves for you all as you know,and we try to make you all smile or lift your spirits a tad,if we do then its mission accomplished.So they dont get any easier going than us lot,or is that just easy?
But we do have two rules.
As we are Yorkshire we do have to have some rules dont we,I mean were not french!
Rule one,is dont ever touch our eyebrowscaping tweezers on pain of death.
Dont use them,look in their direction,or even acknowledge their existance,or go anywhere near them,in fact its best if you just stay outside in the garden.
You may find that a bit unreasonable.But put it this way,you know that footage of what the Americans claim was their atomic bomb test on bikini atol?
Nope.
That was us,on holiday,when we popped up to our room for an afternoon nap,only to see they had used our eyebrow tweezers for getting a spell out or cleaning the muck from out of their toenails or something.
The resulting explosion was ofcourse live footage of the ensueing hissy fit.
The other rule is,when in girlmode or whatever you want to call it,never refer to us as a him or he,again on pain of death.
Its not so much insulting,its more.....hmmm how can I put it.....
You know those pictures of what the Americans claim was the first atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima?
Nope.
That was in fact the aftermath of a cd clearly being referred to in the male sense.
So those pictures of the catastrophic devastion were indeed just the result of the ensueing hissy fit.
Im talking scollops already arent I.
Anyway yes,after a quick scan over our brows its a quick pluck to shape our eyebrows how we like them,and after weve dabbed away the innevitable tears comes two great and gorgeous events.
First its rubbing in moisteriser all over our face and body.Oh that feels sooooooooooooooo nice.Then we sit and let is soak in,and we can feel how soft its making our skin as it tingles away to us as if our skin is singing.
Love it love it love it.
Plus we now smell of coconuts!
Bonus!
Then next its perfume time.We get the bottle,stand up,let the towel just drop to the floor so we are just stood totally naked with everything on display (defo a theme here)then we do three sprays,one high one middle and one cock level (well you never know) then we do a little deft step into the mist of perfume as we do a little twirl as we step through it to the other side,so we get the mist of perfume all over,as who knows which way up or which way round we will end up later on,so I feel we should smell lovely all over,literally.It all adds to their enjoyment after all even if they never notice!
But I like to think they do notice,even if its on an unconscience level.
I do so much love that bit of this whole ritual of getting ready though.I love the little naked dance we do through the mist.
It always reminds me of being really little.When I used to pinch my sisters leotard and hockey skirt,as I knew she had hockey on Thursdays,so had a few days before that to make the most of them.I hid them on a wooden ledge under my bed,and would whip them out,pull them on,then.....no.
Please let me just share this little bit step by step as it means so much to me even to this day.It is odd what we remember,and I remember every tiny detail of this......
So yes,I had on my sisters hockey outfit,which was just a dark blue almost black stretchy soft leotard,and matching pleated mini skirt.Being girls clothes they were made by kittens,for kittens.
Fact.
Its the middle of the night,Im only little at this point in time,7 or 8,and Im in the box room at the front of the house from where I can see the back of the farm house 50 yards away through the ice on the inside of the window.Remember that?
Its not cold.Well....ish.Well I havent frozen to death just yet.
The bedroom door is bolted shut from the outside and the window screwed shut as I had a habit of escaping.
A lot.
Well every night actually.
So all that was to try and keep me in.Ha no chance.Note to self "must try harder".I could escape from anywhere.
Anyway it was out with the knife I had hidden under my bed,to undo the screws keeping the window shut,so I would climb onto my bed then pull myself up onto the windowsill as I wasnt tall enough to reach the windowsill from the floor,I was only tiny.Then after unscrewing the window I would slowly open the window trying to not make a sound,and breath in the cold fresh air and listen to the silence and the wind.You could almost taste the silence.
Right now "This is not America" by David Bowie should be playing in your head.
Its a full moon too so everything is shimmering in silvery grey,no matter anyway as I could see as well in the dark as I could in the day,then I put one leg over the window sill,twist around,and then start to lower myself onto the huge nails that were driven into the bricks that the roses were tied to.My skirt would usually snag on the window lifting it up so I was mooning everyone at that point,not that there was anyone around.
Then slowly and silently close the window leaving a small gap to get back in to later all the whle balancing on the nails barefoot with my toes wrapped around the nails to hold me on,as I had took to refusing to wear shoes at this point as I hated being made to wear boy shoes and refused point blank to wear them.
I had already gone through the protest of refusing point blank to wear boy clothes and had took to taking them all off and running around naked while being chased by my poor old mother.
Yes my mother did win that battle,but I was determined to win the battle of the shoes,as I wanted to wear high heels.As I used to put my feet in my mothers high heels and shuffle accross the floor.Ok I only managed to get half way accross before falling flat on my face and banging my head on something,but its not like its going to do any damage is it.So yes I was going to win the battle of the shoes.
Becouse as you know they make boy shoes from plague,rotting flesh,zombies dog turds and dead peoples skin.And not nice dead people either.
Not biased.
Fact.
I know,my poor mother,the crap I must have put her through.
And well yes,she won that battle too.Oh well.
Anyway then I would climb down the nails making sure I dont snag my sisters leotard or skirt on the thorns,otherwise Im dead meat.
Death by sister!
Nowt worse.
Then its sneaky sneaky little monkey over the garden,over next doors fence not daring to breathe,over the stone wall and then Im away.Running full pelt down the middle of the road.Past the farm and shop,sprint past the school,giving it two fingers as I go past ofcourse,up the hill past the school fields where I could ahem,usually be found,then it was under the bridge,over the next one over the marshelling yards then into the woods.Barefoot ofcourse as you can run faster in bare feet weirdly,plus you make no noise.
You run up the hill at the side of the woods,then bare left into the woods,its totally silent no one is around,its pitch black apart from the silver moonlight shinning through the trees,you can just about hear and feel the steamhammers pounding away in the steel works through the ground,but you tell yourself its just the heartbeat of a freindly giant in the next valley.So thats ok.
Then you walk slowly,tip toeing the last 50 yards barefoot through the wet grass which feels amazing,like you are actually touching mother nature herself,it energizes you in a way I couldnt describe.
Its like your feet are singing.
Then you come to this clearing.To the left is a shell hole from WW2 where the luftwaffe missed Sheffield by a lot of miles with their bomb drop,then there it is in front of you.....
This clearing in the woods just past the shell holes.Its round,and appears magical as its lit in silver moonlight,with all these huge black trees around it,as if they are tall dark horrible grown ups or something.
You stroll into the middle of the cirlce and just..........dance away to yourself.Spinning and twirling about like a mad thing.
The little pleated mini skirt flying up showing you off,as the leotard tries its best to disapear up your crack and split your difference.It felt so free,so wonderful,liberating and lovely.
I really dont have the words.To dance in moonlight on wet grass in bare feet while being crossdressed...utterly amazing...and it just looked and felt like the trees,felt just like they were huge horrible grownups that have turned their backs on me to like have shunned me as they disaprove of this little mad thing dancing away to herself in the clearing,laughing singing and giggling out loud with a smile so huge her face has disappeared.
As thats not done.Oh no.Cant wear girl clothes.Cant do this cant do that,cant put that up there,sit still,sit up straight,put that down,do this do that,stop doing that to them with that! etc etc.
Hated being told what to do.
There are no words great enough that would even come close to that feeling I had when dancing around the clearing.
Its joy.That is,joy.
Only music can do it justice.
If you imagine all that,well apart from you thinking what a weird little sprog I was and feel for my poor mother,listen to Beethovan's 9th syphony 3rd movement.Just over half way through,where the french horns tuba etc are doing that "de der.....de der....de der...." like someone is tiptoeing,then the huge crescendo and the choir kicks in and its all hell breaks loose in the orchestra....that bit.THAT is what all that felt like.If feelings had a sound,that is,what it sounded like in my heart.Which always led to a cartwheel,which never went well as I was no gymnast.Still I have a couple of days to wash out all the mud and grass stains before my sister needs her gym kit so no biggy.
But seriously,THAT,is what it feels like,THAT is what it sounds like if it had a sound.If you arent sobbing your heart out in joy,youve not imagined it properly.
Or,if you are a video based lifeform,then watch Immortal Beloved (I think it was called that),and that scene where he escapes into the woods,that music,yes thats it.He knew what that feeling sounded like didnt he.And yes,that scene when I saw it,was very very too close to the bone for my liking.Way too close to the bone.
But I will never forget all that,one of my happiest memories that is.
I seem to have gone off on one.Sorry.Err where were we?
Oh perfume,yep done that.Nails check.Eyebrows check.Moisterised check.
Next up hair.
Ok secret time,a lot (if not more these days) of my hair is woven in as it has no body at all.It takes hours and hours over several days and I hate it as most ends up on the floor,stuck to my back,next doors dog and the car down the road.So will skip that.
But by now my hairs almost dry so a quick blow and its done,story of our lives eh.
Then we brush it 100 times like we were told as nippers,and it really does make a difference.Super soft and shiny.I then brush it over one eye as have to hide behind something,and back behind one ear as thats how I like it,plus it shows my earrings off.
Which is next.I choose my earrings and slide them in.So nice having anything sliding into us Im not k**ding,it is a wonderful feeling.We do love to have our body penatrated by anything dont we.
By now we are just smiling,we feel so happy,content,lovely and usually horny as hell.But no time for that right now,well sometimes,well most times,but not today my love.
Becouse next comes the bit I dont care for.
Makeup.
Urgh.The heart sinks.Its only becouse its a faff and Im no good at it.I have been experimenting with foundation and contouring to alter the shape of my face lately.I still havent got gorgeous,or even less yucky off to a tee yet.But Im ace at making myself look like skeletor,now that I have perfected.Im also superb at making myself look like a possessed racoon.No one can touch me on that one.But making me look feminine or less yucky,thats still a struggle.
So not a big fan.
Usually though I dont bother and just pull up a minidress and thats it if Im just slobbing around the house,or maybe heels or boots aswell.No bra no knickers.Or if its a pinny day (cleaning day) french maid outfit as then its fun and a turn on instead of just mind numbing drudgery.
Plus I get to shag the hoover!
Bonus!
.....then I have to mend the hoover.
Again.
But if its a shoot or going out,we have to get the war paint on.
Foundation feels hot and thick on your skin,I dont care for it or its application as you dab it on with your fingers then slowly rub it in,becouse at this point you are just staring at your normal face.
I cant see what others see,I just see a yucky ugly old yucky thing in the mirror.Im not the only one,no end of cds think they are.Ive heard no end of them say the same thing,that they think theyre yucky,and Im looking at their pictures,reading what theyve said,and all I can see is someone absolutely gorgeous!Wish I was half as gorgeous.
So its not just me.
Then its contouring and highlights,blusher if I remember as I usually forget that one and bronzer if I had any,all the while trying to remember less is more as that works for me.Plus makeup costs a fortune and Im not made of money.
Secret,if Im going out in public I tape as well before foundation sshhhh.Ha only the cds know what Im talking about there.
But it does work,it takes years off your face.
Told you it was a faff.But the lovely thing about it is the feel of the fluffy brushes on your skin as you apply and blend.We are told to blend blend blend.My answer is,try and stop us!
Soooooo soft soooooo nice,like kittens are dancing about on our faces.Lovely.
Next up eyes.
Usually a faff trying to stick on the false eyelashes without sticking ourselves to everything in sight.Curl,once we worked out which way round the damn curlers go,eye liner,toilet paper corner to get all the bits of eyeliner out of our eyes,then look in the mirror at our now sore red eyeballs like we are possessed or something.
How we suffer for our art.
Eye shadow with the little stiff brush,then lovely kitten brush to blend it all together.
Necklace.On.Earrings check.Rings on.Bracelt check.Ankle braclet?Hmmm depends how slutty Im feeling to be honest.
Then a final look in the mirror with a smile as I always save the lippy till last.I adore having to pout and apply with the brush,followed by the kiss on the toilet paper to remove the excess,and there we have it,the 'real' us.Cant help but smile.
Check teeth for lipstick,nope we are ok to go.
Then its on with the clothes,but first its plug time.I love being plugged and Im almost always plugged,unless Im expecting a seeing to.
I love how it makes me waddle a bit more,how it parts me,feeling open and exposed like that,and how it reminds me its there when I walk or sit down.Oh so nice.Dreamy.Plus it does make you walk more girly for some reason.So its off to wardrobe number 2 where my 'toy box' is kept.My fave plug is always kept on top in its black velvet pouch ready.Out it slips into my hand as I pop it into my mouth and close my lips around it before pulling it slowly out again,followed by a kiss on it,as I do love it so it gets a kiss.
Why not.
I then twist my hips and lift up my sticky out bum and pop it in.Always with a little gasp as I feel it part my puss open,stretches it a little,then when it gets over the return curve of the plug,its like my puss just pulls it in on its own.Almost snatching it out of my hand and up it goes.Oh my yes that it nice.Oh dear yes.
We now spend the next four hundred years picking out what to wear.
If I can get away with something that requires a fully boned corset that will be the one I choosee as I love to be squished.Otherwise it will be a normal corset,or worse case scenario suspender belt.But which one?Thats another four hundred years then.
Or leggings?Or a uniform?Swimsuit?Decisions decisions.
So after we have all died of old age I have saved THE best for last.In goes my alice band and I smile even more.Alice from Wonderland was the first girl I ever wanted to be and the first book I was able to work out how to read it thanks to all the pictures.So alicebands mean so much to me,infact its rare for me not to wear one even when all your stupid mates are telling you over and over again that Im not 12 years old anymore so loose the bloody aliceband.
Sometimes they also might add a what is wrong with me as well.
So its nice they are concerned for my well being by enquiring after my health is it not.
But dont be too hard on them,as I do get my own back.I do drive them up the wall.
A lot.
So.......
you know.........
bonus!
Finally out come the stockings.Oh yes.Love it love it love it.Slipping your painted toes into the silky stocking,then slowly pulling it up over your leg,and the way it slides over your silky smooth legs just makes you purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr with a capital meow.
Talk amongst yourselves for bit ok.
Oh my.
Yes.I do like that bit,then its usually a fight with the suspender clasp but then its on with the heels.
But which ones?
By now several civilisations have come and gone,and a few empires have risen and fallen too.
Now our high heels may be at the bottom of us,but they are the crowning glory.
They say a womans crowning glory is her hair.But for us Cds I think it could very well be our heels.
Mine are all over 5 1/4" high,my highest just under 6",and I can get away with them as Im a tiny twat as some of you know,so even in heels Im still talking to everyones chest.
Oh youve just got to try slipping your stockinged feet into a pair of high heels,or boots,just as good.Its such a warm fuzzy and highly erotic feeling.As theres always a performance.We dont just step into them and go hobbling off.No.We sit on the bed and give out a little gasp as the glass butt plug reminds us its there (!).We uncross our legs,slowly lift one up and point our toes as we slowly offer up the stilletoe shoe up to it.A little point of the painted toes as it slips into the shoe,then a little pull to pull it over our heel and it just grips our foot in like a loving embrace.Oh its so hot.Honestly.
We cant help but stretch out our leg and admire how slender and how much longer it appears in high heels,as our eyes slowly run down our stockinged leg and finish at the stilletoe.As they are just gorgeous to look at in their own right.
By now we are as randy as a box of frogs,heart beating fast,nerves,feeling hot and breathing heavy,it is getting a bit too much.
Then we remember weve no knickers on so have to quickly go to wardrobe number three where they live and choose a pair that matches the rest of our lingerie.
Trying not to snag them on our high heels as we lean on the mirror and lift a leg to pull them on.
We are ready.
Everyones died of old age,but we are ready now.
Its so much more than getting ready you know.Want to know why it makes us so randy,so turned on,almost to distraction?
Well have you noticed how a lot of our ritual mimicks sex?
The insertion of earrings through the little holes in our ears,butt plugs pushed into our puss,feet slipped into stockings,stockings into high heels,its all penetration of our body,especially our earrings.
I dont know why we have this yearning,burning to be to penetrated by anything,everything.Its a need,a must,it is actually a great physical ache deep inside we have to have something penetrate our body.It is a need.Its way beyond a desire.
Ive no idea why,never did work it out.So if anyone knows,I would love to know why we are like that.
Im sure any bloke reading this,that isnt a cd will have trouble to understand that,as most blokes dont even like letting the gas man into the house to read the meter,let alone anything else.
Then theres the overly sensual way we apply our lipstick its tantamount to oral sex,or at least the lead up to it going into our mouth.
The way our thong or knickers part our bum cheeks ever so slightly.How our heels make our sticky out bum stick out even more as if we are presenting,again.The positions we get into to shave,or dress are pretty much the same as if having a good seeing to.
But its so much more too.
Have you noticed how a lot of our ritual mimicks love?
The brushing of our hair behind our ears.Ever had anyone take their hand and brush your hair behind your ears as they stare into your eyes and smile as you go weak at the knees and start shaking with nerves in anticipation?
The soft makeup brushes on your face.Ever had someone gently sweep their hand over your cheek before kissing you,as if you really matter to them?
Yeah me neither but live in hope die in despair n all that.It would make a nice change though wouldnt it from just being bent over the bins and a gruff "brace yerself nelly" for foreplay.
Sigh.
Or the lipstick or blusher-how it makes us look flushed like we get anyway when someone leans in and pauses while maintaining eye lock just before kissing us.How flustered we get.
How our lingerie or dress holds us,hugs us,gently squeezes us.
Its like our clothes are loving us.
So you see its so much more.
It not only makes us feel so hot,so turned on we usually cant bear it anymore and have to give ourselves a treat at some point,with cum going everywhere.
Its always a powerful cum isnt it and always more than usual.But that is becouse we are so wound up by now.Its also why we tend to do our ritual alone,as if someone else was there,we get in such a state of hightened arousal we would just leap on them and shag them to death.Theyd just be nothing left of them by the time we had done.
Our ritual is even more than sex and love combined too.Becouse as we go from one step to the next,its like we are crossing a river on stepping stones from one bank to the other.They say the grass is greener on the other side and for once,they are right.
As we step from one stepping stone to the next,each little application,each piece of clothing is actually transforming us.Not in the way you might be thinking,its emotional,physical and mental too.
As we go through our ritual we dont only transform the way we look,but we change inside too.Each little step makes us become more and more gentle,quieter,softer,kinder,more patient,more caring more loving more passionate.Its not an act,it is a real change.
As we go from stepping stone to stepping stone accross this river of transformation we do take on a lot more of the female qualities.Physically we change the way we sit or walk without even knowing.We become more poised,deft in our movements,gentler in the way we move and handle things.
Emotionally we seem to be more hightened,we notice things we normally wouldnt,get more passionate and instense,more loving,more pervy,become more open and eager to please,more happy more sinscere.Not sure how to put it but you see what I mean I hope.
It really is a transformation inside as well as out,and can be a big transformation for some,and a little one for others as we are all different.Even me,I do feel a change in me,even though everyone says Im still the same big girls blouse as before.
I do love the river of transformation though,to go from one bank to the other and back again at will.Its freedom.Its wonderful.
On one bank of the river,the sucky bank I call it,or boy mode side shall we call it?Or plague infested yucky smelly damp dogs bank.
Not biased.
Fact.
I know I cant speak for anyone else,but I hate being there,every minute of the day,as its not me.But stepping onto that first stepping stone Im instantly happy,as I know whats waiting for me on the other side of this river of transformation.
It may take hours to cross,but once there......oh yeah.
It really is worth it.
By the way do you know what the other side of the river is called?
Bliss.
But just why we are so lucky in being like this I will never know,but I will always be eternally thankfull.
And if you want me,I can sometimes still be found dancing in the moonlight.
Kisses!
xxxx
Another waffle on by Julia Kat.
Iya.Ah zit gu in?Yo reyt?Bi tayters innit.
Just a bit of Yorkshire language for you there for my fellow Yorkshire gurls.Roughly translated in English that would be "hello".
Oh yessssss anyway,yes,this ritual we have,a ritual it is indeed,and a fantastic wonderful bliss filled one at that.
For once Im being serious,which means I will come out in a rash or something later.Probably.Maybe.Dont worry I cant be serious for long so it wont last.
But yes,the ritual.......
As you know us Cd/tvs do have a packed life to say the least,but what you may not know is what goes on behind the scenes.You might only get to see a few minutes footage or us knocking one out on the bus,ravaged by puppets or half an hour of being dressed as a bunny girl while being gang banged by carrots or something and think thats all there is to it.
You just cant make this stuff up can you.
Anyway,what you dont see,is our ritual of getting ready.Please dont underestimate what a big deal this is to us.It is huge,magnificient,wondrous,gorgeous,its just happiness happening.
Now I know all us Cds are different,we all have our own unique ritual of getting ready for going out or doing a shoot,so this one is mine....
Now imagine Ive been off working on contract for months,or years sometimes.Its been male clothes and pretending to be male by altering my walk to get rid of my fat arse swinging side to side when I walk like it does for some weird reason,trying to talk deeper (and forgetting most of the time) and to not talk with my hands,to be less animated,and keep those wrists up!
Awful awful awful.
All my nails are broke,Ive some new scars,my hands feel like theyre made out of leather and Ive had to wear yucky male clothes the whole time,and as you know male clothes are all made out of loft insulation,itching powder,fiberglass,plague,fag ash and dogs arses.Awful.
Not biased.
Fact.
PLUS I have to shop in the boys section as they dont make male clothes small enough for me,which I do find hugely insulting.And anyway they just dont ever fit me.
Nothing at all like womens clothing which are all made from kitten kisses,butterfly hugs,bunny cuddles,spiced with jasmin and Rosemary,plus at least 12 hours of sex goes into the making of each and every mini dress.
Not biased.
Fact.
Now imagine stripping off the plague clothes.Stomping all over them before kicking them into the corner so they can think about what theyve done.Then its a painfull nude walk into the bathroom as cant bare to have my feet flat to the floor.
You fill the sink with warm water,take your lady razor with swively head to get into all those fun parts,and click in a new head.
As you always use a new head on the razor.
Now being blonde,Im not hairy at all really.Apart from pits and pubic bits and a bit on my legs so I only have to shave about two or three times a year.
Put it this way,I have been trying to grow a beard for 47 years now,Im still waiting.
But you cant see blonde hairs anyway,and theyre soft so no biggy really,but I am paranoid they may be a stray hair somewhere!!!!!Really am paranoid about that.So I rub ladies shaving gel all over my fun parts,as thats where I always start,which by the way is wonderful.It makes your skin feel cool and tingly,like your skin is smiling,and you end up so smooth you could use me as a lining for a frying pan.Its seriously good stuff.
I always start with the fun parts,as they are the most awkward to get to,and so begins the weird yoga poses with little magnyging mirror on a stand on the floor as I slowly drag the cold wet blades over my skin.Yes we even do the downward dog pose when we get to the trademans entrance too.
The other wonderful thing about ladies shaving gel is it makes your shopping bags tighten right up tight,like you are about to cum,which feels lovely,plus,makes them easier to run a shaver over too.
Bonus!
Then I do my arms and pits etc which is a waste of time really as theres never anything there,dont bother with chest or stomach as nothing there anyway,or arms....backs of hands,bum cheeks etc...and so on,saving the best while last-my legs.
I dont know why,but there is something really erotic about shaving your legs.You place one leg up on the toilet seat or the side of the bath,brush the shaving gel on,do a little "oo!" as it chills and tingles,then slowly drag the cold wet blades up and over your legs,as you stand there with everything hanging out and on display,as you are pretty much in the presenting position.But there really is something sexy and highly erotic about shaving your legs,I just dont know what.Then you stand and twist to drag the wet blades over the back of your thighs,always running up and over your bum for no reason at all,except its nice.
But by now,blood is being diverted south wards as you are infact turning yourself on BIG TIME.Which again is just a part of the ritual.
But before you give yourself a treat,you turn on the shower and slowly step in,letting the warm water run over you.Its such a contrast to the coolness of the shaving gel,and makes the little hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention and tingle.
Oh yeah.
As you rub the shower gel in,it amazes you how silky smooth you are now,its like your hands just slip and slide over you like never before.
We should really have a "slippery when wet" sign stapled to us.
Ofcourse you seem to spend a lot of time soaping your cock up,not that its huge,no bragging honestly,its becouse we are just playing with ourselves truth be told.I dont know why we cant leave the damn thing alone for two minutes but there you go.
Then we soap up around our bum,which is my fave part of the shower bit.I love that slippery creamy finger running over my puss,Im always suprised by how long my hole it feels,doesnt feel like a hole,more like a trench.Probably a bad choice of words there.
But as I slide my middle finger down again over it slowly as my other fingers spread my bum cheeks,my puss parts a little as if expecting my finger to pop in for tea.
It does.
Out goes a little gasp,as its probably been a while since anything was up there.And opps,another slippery finger has fell in.How did,that happen?!
Oh and then another,till you are standing there sighing with one hand on the cold tiles with the warm water running over you as you just stand there propping yourself up as you just finger yourself silly in the shower.
Why does anal feel just so good?
Usually about now someone walks in and uses the toilet,as cant have any privacy for like two minutes can we!
I swear its like open house here sometimes.
But I carry on as dont care by now and everyones seen it already so why not.
So after a little fingering,and soaping the rest of us up,sometimes doing a saucy little pole dance as we soap up,we rinse off.
Again leaving possibly the best for last-soaping your legs up.It seems so erotic for some strange reason,as you run your hands up and over your legs,then up and over or around your fun parts as if teasing yourself.Oh that is nice.Poor cock is usually starting to ache its so swollen and demanding attention.
But no.
As we shower it all off with the handheld dildo bit of the shower,handset I think its called.We just call it the dildo bit.
And yes,sometimes (most times) you slide it into you,and as it does go up into you,you let it slowly fill you up with warm water,watching your belly inflate slowly with the warm water while running your other hand over your belly while being amazed at just how hot the water feels inside us,just like when someone pee's inside you.Then you let out a giggle as you look down and appear pregnant.Cant help but giggle at that.Its funny for so many reasons.
I never force the water out,I know a lot like to blast the water out of their pussys like a water cannon,but I like to just stand there with the water running over my hair and down my back as I stand with legs apart hands on the wall as if being frisked,and let it just run out of me of its own accord and down the back of my legs.It just feels more natural and sensual that way,and kinda reminds you of being cummed in.You know,that guilty shamey walk home in the cold and dark when some strangers cum in you earlier and now its running down the back of your stockings from out of your puss when you cant hold it in anymore,or youve been in for a pretty bad session and youre still gaped as you walk along.Yep that walk of shame from after youve been a bad gurl yet again,by letting someone have their wicked way with you,and have no idea where your knickers ended up after the whoever it was chucked them somewhere in the throws of passion shall we say.
I wouldnt mind but they arent cheap you know.
Im not made of money.
Just saying.
But its not pervy shoving the handset up yourself honestly,I just like to be clean inside and out aswell.
Honestly.
Thats all.
Really.
Yes.
I think I got away with that.
Yep that was convincing.Sure of it.
Then its hair washing time.Out with the shampoo,and rinse.I know look like a drowned rat and cant see a thing as my fringe is over my eyes.Then its on with the conditioner which I always rub all over my body as well,as it does seem to make my skin feel softer,and I do like to feel nice to touch or hold,caress etc.As being a cd we all try our best with whatever little we have for you all you know.And I think I should feel nice soft smooth and squiggy to hold and whathaveyou.I mean if it helps make just one person happy,why not.
I like to think thats the reason Im here after all.If not its not a bad reason I dont think.
Then its rinse and on with the hair thickener...and then some more....and a bit more.....and why not a tad more....and what....is that all that you get in the bottle?!?
As my hair has no body to it at all.Non.It may as well be painted on.
Then its rinse and we are done.A pat down with the soft fluffy towel,fresh off the line ofcourse as it makes us feel a bit more connected with nature as it smells of flowers and cut grass.Lovely.
Then teeth brushing,before finishing off with tooth polish as it leaves our teeth silky smooth.I know,but I just think if someones going to get their tongue,or other parts in there,it should feel nice and smoothy.Or maybe Im being a mental person.
I have been told I am.
Often.
Infact youd be suprised how often.
But if youre used to reading my posts,then probably not.
Then its a very quick scurry back to the bedroom as its usually freezing going "brrrrrrrrrr" all the way back.
Well Ive not won the lottery this week so cant afford to put the heating on for an hour can I!
By the way,did you know a grown man can hear a thermostat being turned up from over three miles away,even in high wind?
Strange but true.
I do believe that is their super power.
Now this is where this really turns into utter bliss.......
I usually wrap the towel around my boobs and go and have a cuppa and a fag next.I usually stand at the open french doors at the back of the house while having a smoke,with one leg up on the step which makes the gap in the towel open up,like a thigh high split in a evening dress.Always gets me going that does.
Ofcourse I cant be trusted can I,as its not long before I pull the split open even more exposing my cock.
I just stand there,leg and cock on show through the split in the towel as if the towel is a dress or something,not caring who can see,as I finish my fag,usually with a full erection by now.And you just stand there looking down on it and just want to hit it.
Hard.
Or maybe thats just me.
But no time for that anyway,as its back up the stairs to the bedroom,remembering how nice it is to let my bum do its natural waddle from side to side as I go up the stairs.
Its funny what you miss.
Then,oh I adore this bit,painting my nails.Does it get any better than that?!Oh I really do love this bit.
I always like to mix it up,so I try to remember what colour they were last time and choose a different one.My fave colour was silver with bits of glitter in it.Loved that one.Red is my next fave as I am lost in the 50s showgirl look.Or black if Im in 'that' mood.
I love this bit so much,leg up on the dressing table,with the towel falling apart exposing my bits again,I know its like a desease or something,as I slowly dip the brush and stroke on the colour.
You dont 'paint' your nails,you 'stroke' it on.
The transformation makes you smile inside,the smell of the chemicals is like a little high as you try and paint the tiny nails on your feet.As my feet are very small and the nails even smaller!Not easy,especially with blurryvision.
Then as they dry I put them up on the desk and admire them for a while,just smiling away to myself like a mental person.
I am starting to notice a theme here.
Then its painting my finger nails after Ive cut and filed them into whatever shape I feel like.I used to file them to a point,but have ruined no end of stockings that way,so nowadays I file them with a flat on the end.
I just love how my hands change with just such a simple application of paint.Gone are the yucky old hands,and on with the lovely dainty deft fingers and hands.Then its just sit back,feet up as we gently blow blow blow our finger nails dry,always with our fingers curled over,never straight.
Dont know why though.
Odd.
Once dry next up is eyebrow maintainance.We have a special mirror and tweezers just for this job.You can tell which they are,as they are to one side,sat apart from our makeup mountain in the dressing table,usually to one side of our massive pile of makeup brushes.Our makeup brushes are always just chucked in a pile any old how,yet the tweezers for this one task sit alone and some distance from all over makeup like a queen sits apart from her subjects.
Being a bit overly dramatic there sorry.
Oh while Im on about these magical tweezers,you should know two things.
Now us cds are not tolerant people,no,we are more like accepting people.We dont tolerate certain groups or other,we just accept them for who or what they are.So we are an easy going bunch,and we do our very best to make the most of ourselves for you all as you know,and we try to make you all smile or lift your spirits a tad,if we do then its mission accomplished.So they dont get any easier going than us lot,or is that just easy?
But we do have two rules.
As we are Yorkshire we do have to have some rules dont we,I mean were not french!
Rule one,is dont ever touch our eyebrowscaping tweezers on pain of death.
Dont use them,look in their direction,or even acknowledge their existance,or go anywhere near them,in fact its best if you just stay outside in the garden.
You may find that a bit unreasonable.But put it this way,you know that footage of what the Americans claim was their atomic bomb test on bikini atol?
Nope.
That was us,on holiday,when we popped up to our room for an afternoon nap,only to see they had used our eyebrow tweezers for getting a spell out or cleaning the muck from out of their toenails or something.
The resulting explosion was ofcourse live footage of the ensueing hissy fit.
The other rule is,when in girlmode or whatever you want to call it,never refer to us as a him or he,again on pain of death.
Its not so much insulting,its more.....hmmm how can I put it.....
You know those pictures of what the Americans claim was the first atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima?
Nope.
That was in fact the aftermath of a cd clearly being referred to in the male sense.
So those pictures of the catastrophic devastion were indeed just the result of the ensueing hissy fit.
Im talking scollops already arent I.
Anyway yes,after a quick scan over our brows its a quick pluck to shape our eyebrows how we like them,and after weve dabbed away the innevitable tears comes two great and gorgeous events.
First its rubbing in moisteriser all over our face and body.Oh that feels sooooooooooooooo nice.Then we sit and let is soak in,and we can feel how soft its making our skin as it tingles away to us as if our skin is singing.
Love it love it love it.
Plus we now smell of coconuts!
Bonus!
Then next its perfume time.We get the bottle,stand up,let the towel just drop to the floor so we are just stood totally naked with everything on display (defo a theme here)then we do three sprays,one high one middle and one cock level (well you never know) then we do a little deft step into the mist of perfume as we do a little twirl as we step through it to the other side,so we get the mist of perfume all over,as who knows which way up or which way round we will end up later on,so I feel we should smell lovely all over,literally.It all adds to their enjoyment after all even if they never notice!
But I like to think they do notice,even if its on an unconscience level.
I do so much love that bit of this whole ritual of getting ready though.I love the little naked dance we do through the mist.
It always reminds me of being really little.When I used to pinch my sisters leotard and hockey skirt,as I knew she had hockey on Thursdays,so had a few days before that to make the most of them.I hid them on a wooden ledge under my bed,and would whip them out,pull them on,then.....no.
Please let me just share this little bit step by step as it means so much to me even to this day.It is odd what we remember,and I remember every tiny detail of this......
So yes,I had on my sisters hockey outfit,which was just a dark blue almost black stretchy soft leotard,and matching pleated mini skirt.Being girls clothes they were made by kittens,for kittens.
Fact.
Its the middle of the night,Im only little at this point in time,7 or 8,and Im in the box room at the front of the house from where I can see the back of the farm house 50 yards away through the ice on the inside of the window.Remember that?
Its not cold.Well....ish.Well I havent frozen to death just yet.
The bedroom door is bolted shut from the outside and the window screwed shut as I had a habit of escaping.
A lot.
Well every night actually.
So all that was to try and keep me in.Ha no chance.Note to self "must try harder".I could escape from anywhere.
Anyway it was out with the knife I had hidden under my bed,to undo the screws keeping the window shut,so I would climb onto my bed then pull myself up onto the windowsill as I wasnt tall enough to reach the windowsill from the floor,I was only tiny.Then after unscrewing the window I would slowly open the window trying to not make a sound,and breath in the cold fresh air and listen to the silence and the wind.You could almost taste the silence.
Right now "This is not America" by David Bowie should be playing in your head.
Its a full moon too so everything is shimmering in silvery grey,no matter anyway as I could see as well in the dark as I could in the day,then I put one leg over the window sill,twist around,and then start to lower myself onto the huge nails that were driven into the bricks that the roses were tied to.My skirt would usually snag on the window lifting it up so I was mooning everyone at that point,not that there was anyone around.
Then slowly and silently close the window leaving a small gap to get back in to later all the whle balancing on the nails barefoot with my toes wrapped around the nails to hold me on,as I had took to refusing to wear shoes at this point as I hated being made to wear boy shoes and refused point blank to wear them.
I had already gone through the protest of refusing point blank to wear boy clothes and had took to taking them all off and running around naked while being chased by my poor old mother.
Yes my mother did win that battle,but I was determined to win the battle of the shoes,as I wanted to wear high heels.As I used to put my feet in my mothers high heels and shuffle accross the floor.Ok I only managed to get half way accross before falling flat on my face and banging my head on something,but its not like its going to do any damage is it.So yes I was going to win the battle of the shoes.
Becouse as you know they make boy shoes from plague,rotting flesh,zombies dog turds and dead peoples skin.And not nice dead people either.
Not biased.
Fact.
I know,my poor mother,the crap I must have put her through.
And well yes,she won that battle too.Oh well.
Anyway then I would climb down the nails making sure I dont snag my sisters leotard or skirt on the thorns,otherwise Im dead meat.
Death by sister!
Nowt worse.
Then its sneaky sneaky little monkey over the garden,over next doors fence not daring to breathe,over the stone wall and then Im away.Running full pelt down the middle of the road.Past the farm and shop,sprint past the school,giving it two fingers as I go past ofcourse,up the hill past the school fields where I could ahem,usually be found,then it was under the bridge,over the next one over the marshelling yards then into the woods.Barefoot ofcourse as you can run faster in bare feet weirdly,plus you make no noise.
You run up the hill at the side of the woods,then bare left into the woods,its totally silent no one is around,its pitch black apart from the silver moonlight shinning through the trees,you can just about hear and feel the steamhammers pounding away in the steel works through the ground,but you tell yourself its just the heartbeat of a freindly giant in the next valley.So thats ok.
Then you walk slowly,tip toeing the last 50 yards barefoot through the wet grass which feels amazing,like you are actually touching mother nature herself,it energizes you in a way I couldnt describe.
Its like your feet are singing.
Then you come to this clearing.To the left is a shell hole from WW2 where the luftwaffe missed Sheffield by a lot of miles with their bomb drop,then there it is in front of you.....
This clearing in the woods just past the shell holes.Its round,and appears magical as its lit in silver moonlight,with all these huge black trees around it,as if they are tall dark horrible grown ups or something.
You stroll into the middle of the cirlce and just..........dance away to yourself.Spinning and twirling about like a mad thing.
The little pleated mini skirt flying up showing you off,as the leotard tries its best to disapear up your crack and split your difference.It felt so free,so wonderful,liberating and lovely.
I really dont have the words.To dance in moonlight on wet grass in bare feet while being crossdressed...utterly amazing...and it just looked and felt like the trees,felt just like they were huge horrible grownups that have turned their backs on me to like have shunned me as they disaprove of this little mad thing dancing away to herself in the clearing,laughing singing and giggling out loud with a smile so huge her face has disappeared.
As thats not done.Oh no.Cant wear girl clothes.Cant do this cant do that,cant put that up there,sit still,sit up straight,put that down,do this do that,stop doing that to them with that! etc etc.
Hated being told what to do.
There are no words great enough that would even come close to that feeling I had when dancing around the clearing.
Its joy.That is,joy.
Only music can do it justice.
If you imagine all that,well apart from you thinking what a weird little sprog I was and feel for my poor mother,listen to Beethovan's 9th syphony 3rd movement.Just over half way through,where the french horns tuba etc are doing that "de der.....de der....de der...." like someone is tiptoeing,then the huge crescendo and the choir kicks in and its all hell breaks loose in the orchestra....that bit.THAT is what all that felt like.If feelings had a sound,that is,what it sounded like in my heart.Which always led to a cartwheel,which never went well as I was no gymnast.Still I have a couple of days to wash out all the mud and grass stains before my sister needs her gym kit so no biggy.
But seriously,THAT,is what it feels like,THAT is what it sounds like if it had a sound.If you arent sobbing your heart out in joy,youve not imagined it properly.
Or,if you are a video based lifeform,then watch Immortal Beloved (I think it was called that),and that scene where he escapes into the woods,that music,yes thats it.He knew what that feeling sounded like didnt he.And yes,that scene when I saw it,was very very too close to the bone for my liking.Way too close to the bone.
But I will never forget all that,one of my happiest memories that is.
I seem to have gone off on one.Sorry.Err where were we?
Oh perfume,yep done that.Nails check.Eyebrows check.Moisterised check.
Next up hair.
Ok secret time,a lot (if not more these days) of my hair is woven in as it has no body at all.It takes hours and hours over several days and I hate it as most ends up on the floor,stuck to my back,next doors dog and the car down the road.So will skip that.
But by now my hairs almost dry so a quick blow and its done,story of our lives eh.
Then we brush it 100 times like we were told as nippers,and it really does make a difference.Super soft and shiny.I then brush it over one eye as have to hide behind something,and back behind one ear as thats how I like it,plus it shows my earrings off.
Which is next.I choose my earrings and slide them in.So nice having anything sliding into us Im not k**ding,it is a wonderful feeling.We do love to have our body penatrated by anything dont we.
By now we are just smiling,we feel so happy,content,lovely and usually horny as hell.But no time for that right now,well sometimes,well most times,but not today my love.
Becouse next comes the bit I dont care for.
Makeup.
Urgh.The heart sinks.Its only becouse its a faff and Im no good at it.I have been experimenting with foundation and contouring to alter the shape of my face lately.I still havent got gorgeous,or even less yucky off to a tee yet.But Im ace at making myself look like skeletor,now that I have perfected.Im also superb at making myself look like a possessed racoon.No one can touch me on that one.But making me look feminine or less yucky,thats still a struggle.
So not a big fan.
Usually though I dont bother and just pull up a minidress and thats it if Im just slobbing around the house,or maybe heels or boots aswell.No bra no knickers.Or if its a pinny day (cleaning day) french maid outfit as then its fun and a turn on instead of just mind numbing drudgery.
Plus I get to shag the hoover!
Bonus!
.....then I have to mend the hoover.
Again.
But if its a shoot or going out,we have to get the war paint on.
Foundation feels hot and thick on your skin,I dont care for it or its application as you dab it on with your fingers then slowly rub it in,becouse at this point you are just staring at your normal face.
I cant see what others see,I just see a yucky ugly old yucky thing in the mirror.Im not the only one,no end of cds think they are.Ive heard no end of them say the same thing,that they think theyre yucky,and Im looking at their pictures,reading what theyve said,and all I can see is someone absolutely gorgeous!Wish I was half as gorgeous.
So its not just me.
Then its contouring and highlights,blusher if I remember as I usually forget that one and bronzer if I had any,all the while trying to remember less is more as that works for me.Plus makeup costs a fortune and Im not made of money.
Secret,if Im going out in public I tape as well before foundation sshhhh.Ha only the cds know what Im talking about there.
But it does work,it takes years off your face.
Told you it was a faff.But the lovely thing about it is the feel of the fluffy brushes on your skin as you apply and blend.We are told to blend blend blend.My answer is,try and stop us!
Soooooo soft soooooo nice,like kittens are dancing about on our faces.Lovely.
Next up eyes.
Usually a faff trying to stick on the false eyelashes without sticking ourselves to everything in sight.Curl,once we worked out which way round the damn curlers go,eye liner,toilet paper corner to get all the bits of eyeliner out of our eyes,then look in the mirror at our now sore red eyeballs like we are possessed or something.
How we suffer for our art.
Eye shadow with the little stiff brush,then lovely kitten brush to blend it all together.
Necklace.On.Earrings check.Rings on.Bracelt check.Ankle braclet?Hmmm depends how slutty Im feeling to be honest.
Then a final look in the mirror with a smile as I always save the lippy till last.I adore having to pout and apply with the brush,followed by the kiss on the toilet paper to remove the excess,and there we have it,the 'real' us.Cant help but smile.
Check teeth for lipstick,nope we are ok to go.
Then its on with the clothes,but first its plug time.I love being plugged and Im almost always plugged,unless Im expecting a seeing to.
I love how it makes me waddle a bit more,how it parts me,feeling open and exposed like that,and how it reminds me its there when I walk or sit down.Oh so nice.Dreamy.Plus it does make you walk more girly for some reason.So its off to wardrobe number 2 where my 'toy box' is kept.My fave plug is always kept on top in its black velvet pouch ready.Out it slips into my hand as I pop it into my mouth and close my lips around it before pulling it slowly out again,followed by a kiss on it,as I do love it so it gets a kiss.
Why not.
I then twist my hips and lift up my sticky out bum and pop it in.Always with a little gasp as I feel it part my puss open,stretches it a little,then when it gets over the return curve of the plug,its like my puss just pulls it in on its own.Almost snatching it out of my hand and up it goes.Oh my yes that it nice.Oh dear yes.
We now spend the next four hundred years picking out what to wear.
If I can get away with something that requires a fully boned corset that will be the one I choosee as I love to be squished.Otherwise it will be a normal corset,or worse case scenario suspender belt.But which one?Thats another four hundred years then.
Or leggings?Or a uniform?Swimsuit?Decisions decisions.
So after we have all died of old age I have saved THE best for last.In goes my alice band and I smile even more.Alice from Wonderland was the first girl I ever wanted to be and the first book I was able to work out how to read it thanks to all the pictures.So alicebands mean so much to me,infact its rare for me not to wear one even when all your stupid mates are telling you over and over again that Im not 12 years old anymore so loose the bloody aliceband.
Sometimes they also might add a what is wrong with me as well.
So its nice they are concerned for my well being by enquiring after my health is it not.
But dont be too hard on them,as I do get my own back.I do drive them up the wall.
A lot.
So.......
you know.........
bonus!
Finally out come the stockings.Oh yes.Love it love it love it.Slipping your painted toes into the silky stocking,then slowly pulling it up over your leg,and the way it slides over your silky smooth legs just makes you purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr with a capital meow.
Talk amongst yourselves for bit ok.
Oh my.
Yes.I do like that bit,then its usually a fight with the suspender clasp but then its on with the heels.
But which ones?
By now several civilisations have come and gone,and a few empires have risen and fallen too.
Now our high heels may be at the bottom of us,but they are the crowning glory.
They say a womans crowning glory is her hair.But for us Cds I think it could very well be our heels.
Mine are all over 5 1/4" high,my highest just under 6",and I can get away with them as Im a tiny twat as some of you know,so even in heels Im still talking to everyones chest.
Oh youve just got to try slipping your stockinged feet into a pair of high heels,or boots,just as good.Its such a warm fuzzy and highly erotic feeling.As theres always a performance.We dont just step into them and go hobbling off.No.We sit on the bed and give out a little gasp as the glass butt plug reminds us its there (!).We uncross our legs,slowly lift one up and point our toes as we slowly offer up the stilletoe shoe up to it.A little point of the painted toes as it slips into the shoe,then a little pull to pull it over our heel and it just grips our foot in like a loving embrace.Oh its so hot.Honestly.
We cant help but stretch out our leg and admire how slender and how much longer it appears in high heels,as our eyes slowly run down our stockinged leg and finish at the stilletoe.As they are just gorgeous to look at in their own right.
By now we are as randy as a box of frogs,heart beating fast,nerves,feeling hot and breathing heavy,it is getting a bit too much.
Then we remember weve no knickers on so have to quickly go to wardrobe number three where they live and choose a pair that matches the rest of our lingerie.
Trying not to snag them on our high heels as we lean on the mirror and lift a leg to pull them on.
We are ready.
Everyones died of old age,but we are ready now.
Its so much more than getting ready you know.Want to know why it makes us so randy,so turned on,almost to distraction?
Well have you noticed how a lot of our ritual mimicks sex?
The insertion of earrings through the little holes in our ears,butt plugs pushed into our puss,feet slipped into stockings,stockings into high heels,its all penetration of our body,especially our earrings.
I dont know why we have this yearning,burning to be to penetrated by anything,everything.Its a need,a must,it is actually a great physical ache deep inside we have to have something penetrate our body.It is a need.Its way beyond a desire.
Ive no idea why,never did work it out.So if anyone knows,I would love to know why we are like that.
Im sure any bloke reading this,that isnt a cd will have trouble to understand that,as most blokes dont even like letting the gas man into the house to read the meter,let alone anything else.
Then theres the overly sensual way we apply our lipstick its tantamount to oral sex,or at least the lead up to it going into our mouth.
The way our thong or knickers part our bum cheeks ever so slightly.How our heels make our sticky out bum stick out even more as if we are presenting,again.The positions we get into to shave,or dress are pretty much the same as if having a good seeing to.
But its so much more too.
Have you noticed how a lot of our ritual mimicks love?
The brushing of our hair behind our ears.Ever had anyone take their hand and brush your hair behind your ears as they stare into your eyes and smile as you go weak at the knees and start shaking with nerves in anticipation?
The soft makeup brushes on your face.Ever had someone gently sweep their hand over your cheek before kissing you,as if you really matter to them?
Yeah me neither but live in hope die in despair n all that.It would make a nice change though wouldnt it from just being bent over the bins and a gruff "brace yerself nelly" for foreplay.
Sigh.
Or the lipstick or blusher-how it makes us look flushed like we get anyway when someone leans in and pauses while maintaining eye lock just before kissing us.How flustered we get.
How our lingerie or dress holds us,hugs us,gently squeezes us.
Its like our clothes are loving us.
So you see its so much more.
It not only makes us feel so hot,so turned on we usually cant bear it anymore and have to give ourselves a treat at some point,with cum going everywhere.
Its always a powerful cum isnt it and always more than usual.But that is becouse we are so wound up by now.Its also why we tend to do our ritual alone,as if someone else was there,we get in such a state of hightened arousal we would just leap on them and shag them to death.Theyd just be nothing left of them by the time we had done.
Our ritual is even more than sex and love combined too.Becouse as we go from one step to the next,its like we are crossing a river on stepping stones from one bank to the other.They say the grass is greener on the other side and for once,they are right.
As we step from one stepping stone to the next,each little application,each piece of clothing is actually transforming us.Not in the way you might be thinking,its emotional,physical and mental too.
As we go through our ritual we dont only transform the way we look,but we change inside too.Each little step makes us become more and more gentle,quieter,softer,kinder,more patient,more caring more loving more passionate.Its not an act,it is a real change.
As we go from stepping stone to stepping stone accross this river of transformation we do take on a lot more of the female qualities.Physically we change the way we sit or walk without even knowing.We become more poised,deft in our movements,gentler in the way we move and handle things.
Emotionally we seem to be more hightened,we notice things we normally wouldnt,get more passionate and instense,more loving,more pervy,become more open and eager to please,more happy more sinscere.Not sure how to put it but you see what I mean I hope.
It really is a transformation inside as well as out,and can be a big transformation for some,and a little one for others as we are all different.Even me,I do feel a change in me,even though everyone says Im still the same big girls blouse as before.
I do love the river of transformation though,to go from one bank to the other and back again at will.Its freedom.Its wonderful.
On one bank of the river,the sucky bank I call it,or boy mode side shall we call it?Or plague infested yucky smelly damp dogs bank.
Not biased.
Fact.
I know I cant speak for anyone else,but I hate being there,every minute of the day,as its not me.But stepping onto that first stepping stone Im instantly happy,as I know whats waiting for me on the other side of this river of transformation.
It may take hours to cross,but once there......oh yeah.
It really is worth it.
By the way do you know what the other side of the river is called?
Bliss.
But just why we are so lucky in being like this I will never know,but I will always be eternally thankfull.
And if you want me,I can sometimes still be found dancing in the moonlight.
Kisses!
xxxx
3 年 前
))
