[Philosophy] Climbing the wall…in heels.

So, a new year. I’d sort-of decided to let Sarah have a bit of a rest after the manic months of July through September last year, so it’s been a total of four months since I shed the mail persona and let Sarah have her way with my body.

And I’m so obsessed with the upcoming session it is almost indescribable, the yearning is present every waking moment.

Wow. For someone who was attempting to quieten the femm-urges this is what could be called something of an eye opener. It just goes to show that whatever it is in my head, for good or for bad, it’s gone past the point of simple control. I yearn to be her with all my fibre, all my being.

But let’s take a step back a moment. In between the constant arousal and urges coming at me from what seems like every direction (for instance, I’m playing Final Fantasy 15 on the PS4 at the moment to try and take the edge of the urge, and I’m eyeing up every female character’s costume and wondering if the style would work for me. Mildly distracting doesn’t start to describe that) it’s rapidly becoming clear that something major has clicked deep down inside.

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There’s always been an edge to the dressing, ever since day one 38 odd years ago. Even when fully clothed and made-up I’d still have some male mannerism, by design, a slight swagger when I walked, a hunching of the shoulders, holding the arms incorrectly, you get the message. This was subconscious, a kind of rebellion of the subsumed emasculated person inside the shell of frills and lipstick. What I noticed on the last couple of times I’v dressed is that those attributes have gone.

And that’s a big thing to realise. I no longer seem to want to even pretend to be male when I’m dressed. No deep voice, no sitting legs wide apart. She is in total control, and it’s more along the lines that she may be more of a part of the inside person now than he is.

That raises some deep questions that I’ve always bounced aside. I’ve never considered the fact that Sarah may be the rightful owner of the body, and not him. Gives me a warm feeling just typing that, and that again is something that needs close inspection.

But anyway, I have a *mammoth* session planned for a couple of weeks (not giving the actual days because I know there are some admirers who would stake out the place), with some interesting new looks and ideas.

I have a couple of the cutest LindyBop dresses I’ve ever seen, a ruffled high-neck blouse (been looking for one for *ever*), a complete Spanish Señorita outfit (traditional dancing frock, fan, lace gloves, red flower for her hair), a couple of Air Stewardess uniforms (well, it’s a cliche but there’s a reason it’s a cliche, it’s massively fun) and some others that may surprise and please that I’ll keep until done. I’m doing two days – the first will be a more subdued look, something similar to the featured picture of this blog, and I’ll be trying some sexy nightclub looks just to see if Sarah can pull off the ‘lass on the pull’ look.

And I’m intrigued just how little of him will be present for the sessions. I have an option to go out and take some photos in the real world – he’s terrified of that, and she isn’t, so it will be interesting to see who wins that battle on the day(s).

Anyway, back to climbing the wall. At the moment I can go, ooo, around fifteen minutes maximum without diving onto her machine and surfing clothes sites, dreaming of the feel of stockings and heels, and that delicious moment when you pull the frock down over your head and zip it up tight.

Shudder….

So stay beautiful and sane you wonderful people, Sarah is here and she is a lot more pushy than I remember.

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