MY FEMINIZATION DIARY - feminization of myself

more feminization stories and a new design

FORCED FEMINIZATION STORIES a whole new set and more are to be come. And I've also changed the design. Aah, and don't forget to subscribe, if you love it ;)


When I was thirteen, my parents booked themselves for a two months vacation in Europe one summer and decided to send my two sisters (aged fourteen and twelve at that time) and myself to a lady friend of my mother's who had a large place in the country and asked to take care of the three children. As it happens, this lady had never actually met any of us and knew us only by our names.

She said that she had clothing for all of us, for apparently she had boarded children before, which relieved my parents from having to supply with any great amount of clothing. So, when my parents left, the three of us were shipped off by train to our summer guardian.

When we arrived at our summer home, which was several miles from town on a pleasant estate, and the three of us trooped in to meet our summer guardian, an unmarried lady. She was greatly surprised to see that one of us three was a boy. She had assumed from my name, Leslie, that I was a girl, for my name, is sometimes associated with girls, and she had prepared identical clothing for all of us. She had identically designed dresses, middy blouses, athletic bloomers, and so on. She had no boy's clothing on hand at all!

After some hesitation and consternation, she approached me on being a "good sport" and dressing for the summer as my sisters. Naturally, I was averse to the idea, but since the place was isolated, and there really wasn't anything else I could do anyway, I finally agreed. So that entire summer I wore the same girl bloomers and chemises and skirts my sisters did, slept in a pink and lace-frilled nightie, exercised and played in blue gym bloomers and middies, and had the best summer of my life.

When it came time to go home, I naturally took my new clothes home with me. After my parents’ confusion and my insistence, I continued occasionally to wear at least my feminine undies in the city. After my parents got used to the idea, and found that after having learned to act as a girl that summer, I was a better behaved son, they continued to buy me the pink silk bloomers and vests I enjoyed.

To this day I continue the habit. And although I am now a successful businessman and a married man, I still wear the same type of underwear as my wife. At first the girl I married got quite a surprise from my addiction, but now she takes it as a matter of course that my bureau has just as many dainty and filmy pieces of lingerie as hers.