Drink Me (Sissy Story) by sdvine - Sex Stories

Drink Me (Sissy Story) by sdvine

... Hell, I even wear facial hair. But all that conceals the woman inside. Conceals, that is, all except for this woman. After telling me the bottle would match the inside with the outside, it was probably one of the easiest 30 bucks she had ever made. To be fair, even if I wasn't nearly convinced she was actually telling the truth, the 30 dollar price tag was low enough that I couldn't resist just trying. A deliberately cleared throat broke me of my reverie. "You've been staring at it for ten minutes," my friend Kiki said, "are you trying to work up the courage or something?" Kiki was direct, as always, a virtue I counted on her for, cherished her for. She was part of the one percent I trusted with my secret, and she had become my one and only girlfriend (in the best friends vein) as a result. I looked up at her sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I am," I replied. "How can you be that scared to have what you've basically always wanted?" She had a point. I've known, in some fashion, since I was a teenager. It started off when I saw some gender bender movie. The concept touched something deep in me, and I found myself thinking about it more and more with each passing day. And I found, eventually, that it stayed with me so much because it's what I wanted for myself. I wanted to be a woman. It satisfied a deep psychological need, and it also sexually aroused me. I figured out that not only was I female in my core, but I had a transformation fantasy as well. Kiki called it a two-fer. I was ...

... a woman, but I also found sexual desire in the act of my body changing from the male to the female. I later found writings that suggested that this was how I helped satisfy my "inner girl," since I had chosen to forego transition. I accepted who I was, but at the same time, my male body posed a challenge. As I mentioned, I'm no Adonis, but there was no mistaking this body as anything but male. I simply did not believe transitioning was for me. I felt more comfortable in my current body than I believed I would with the roll of the dice on how HRT and SRS would make me look. I basically wanted there to be no doubt, ever, of my womanhood. "Well, for starters, I'm scared it just won't work. But I'm also scared that it will work, but not enough. You know how much I'm afraid of looking, well, stuck in between the two." "Didn't the woman already tell you that wasn't the case? If you believe her that it'd work, why would you not believe her to the full extent? I mean, what's in it for her to lie to you about it?" I didn't have a response to that, however, it did make me think to myself that just because I couldn't answer that question, that didn't mean there wasn't any answer at all. I simply may not have been able to see it. "Listen, I understand if you want to hold off longer," she said, with a sympathetic look, "It's huge. If that's the case, go get out of that robe and put some clothes on, and we can grab some dinner. We can do this whenever you're ready." Something about how she ...