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From: godwin.william@yahoo.ca
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg,alt.sex.sissy
Subject: Panty Boy or 'Out of the Navy and into Panties'!
Date: Mon, 22 Oct 2007 16:53:44 -0700
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My fetish about women's lingerie started innocently enough. When I
was four years old, I entered the only bathroom in the house, and
found my mother standing bent over the toilet pulling on a long-leg
panty girdle, then hooking up nylons. That sight is burnt into my
mind even today.
This attraction remained latent until I discovered the habit of
masturbation. I passed the laundry hamper in the basement and noticed
a pair of my mother's panties in the basket. I thought, "Geez, I
wonder how they would feel on my cock while I beat off?" So I grabbed
them and put them in a pants pocket to find out later that night. It
was *wonderful*.
Like most teenage males, I continued to masturbate into Mom's panties
through the high school and into the college years when I was at home
in Arizona. I imagine she KNEW what was up since she did the laundry,
but I was never questioned.
I had to tone down my masturbation and fetishes when I was at the
United States Naval Academy. For one, you had room-mates or
upperclassmen or women (or even female officers) who could "pop" into
the room at any moment. There was no place private where you could
"spank the monkey." There was no place to "hide" a pair of panties,
since your entire room was subject to inspection anytime. So when I
was home from the Academy, I set the Arizona state record for numbers
of times beating off in a week, so to speak. I went blind several
times. :)
I was selected to be a submariner. I read an article in Playboy(TM)
where male runners would wear nylon panties while running to prevent
chafing. I thought, "What an idea and excuse to get some panties for
my own!" I cautiously went to the Navy Exchange Store at the
Charleston SUB-BASE, and bought three pairs of Vanity Fair underwear
as a gift "for my wife." I had researched sizes and determined that I
needed size 8. I liked (and still like) the pink and patterned full
figure briefs. I was in my Dinner Dress Blues, with submarine
dolphins (not civilian clothes), since I was headed to a formal dining-
out. [Little did the submarine wives know that I was wearing prettier
lingerie under my uniform than they were, with their granny panties
and all.]
The saleswoman was trying to be helpful and suggested, "Are you
certain you have the right size? Your wife must be a very big woman.
We can't accept returns on panties if they are the wrong size." I
began to get a huge erection with all this "female talk" about
panties. I was quite anxious, hoping that they would make the sale
soon. To lingerie sales clerks, panties are just pieces of fabric. To
me, they are essential. Further, it was deliciously humiliating
because they noted the absence of a wedding band on my hand AND noted
my Naval Academy ring.
One of clerks demanded, "You're not married. Are these for you then?"
Blushing furiously, I explained with *beet red* face, "These are for
me when I'm running. I read an article about it and want to try it."
The clerks (yes, they congregated around helpless, bashful old me,
like sharks after chum....) smiled and winked amongst themselves, and
*I* wanted to shrink up and blow away. I did go back to the store
weeks later at an entirely different time (to avoid the original
clerks) for additional pairs without incident. Three pairs wasn't
enough. I had to feed the fetish.
I very cautiously smuggled the panties aboard the submarine, hidden
inside pairs of rolled up socks. Items brought aboard a submarine are
subject to search at any time and I could not face being labeled as a
transvestite by my fellow sailors. Once during a fire drill I was told
to disrobe "due to being contaminated" and I had to refuse due to the
panties under the poopy suit. It was only a drill, so my excuse was
allowed and I was safe from detection.
I hid panties in the Bachelor Officers Quarters (BOQ) on base in my
dirty laundry, rolled into socks. Once, I was doing my laundry at the
BOQ, and went to get a beer from the Officer's Lounge, thinking that
my come-stained panties would be washed clean when I got back in a
couple of minutes. Another officer from my boat had transferred my
now clean panties and uniform items into the dryer. He knew my secret
then, I figured. He never said anything to anyone, but he gave me a
Playtex panty girdle for my "going away" party to "keep my "girlish
figure" in shape. This one act reignited my girdle fetish.
I met my soon-to-be wife Penny in the Navy. She was a Navy dentist,
and I allowed her to "catch me"wearing panties in bed while we were
dating. She was very surprised, thinking at first that the panties I
was wearing were hers ["How dare you steal my underwear!" she said],
but later said I was "normal" and that many men were secret
crossdressers. If she only knew how deeply I was into this panty
deal, I thought at the time. I left the Navy shortly thereafter in
1998.
One of the first shopping excursions we made was to a "Bra and Girdle"
factory outlet (now closed) in New Jersey. She took me with her
nominally to "tag along". We got to the store, full of women young and
old, nary a man in sight, and she said to me, "I want to purchase 2
girdles and other things." She called a pretty young clerk over for
fitting assistance. This was extremely interesting to me, because I
had guessed at MY sizes up to this time, and I didn't know how to
measure, and as a bonus- I thought, "Now I will know her sizes for
shopping for her."
At that moment I said to her "Pennie, I think you are too young for
girdles and these bras. I don't like the idea that you will be wearing
girdles." Little did I know what was about to happen. She replied,
"No, Donna, YOU will be purchasing and wearing these." I died right
that moment. The clerk measured my waist, hips, and bust and my wife
selected four pairs of pink panties, four pairs of black seamed
stockings, and of course my two long leg panty girdles and two
underwire bras.
I was still blushing at the checkout where Penny said to the register
woman, "These girdles and things are Donna's, he will be paying by
credit card...." When we left the shop, I was carrying a big bag with
my lingerie in it. It was deliciously humiliating.
I work at construction sites, and always wear panties under my work
clothes. Outlet stores and discount shops all out of town saw me with
young clerks buying panties. I tried on a nightgown in TJ MAXX in
Annapolis. The dressing room clerk remarked, "You look lovely in the
gown, is it for you or your wife?" Of course, it was for me. In
Utah, at a Marshall's store, the very pretty and young clerk was so
flustered she couldn't complete the sale and had to hand off to the
manager. At a Jones Store in Missouri, the clerk wouldn't sell me a
pair of plain nylon panties. She made me beg her to sell them with a
dozen women around waiting to be helped.
I used to dress in a long leg panty girdle and underwire bra when I
was traveling by plane on business. Of course, one must walk through
a metal detector. The garter tabs on the girdle and the underwire
metal on the bra sets off the metal detector, and you get "wanded"
then have to explain (hopefully to a woman) that you are a
crossdresser wearing a girdle and underwire bra. Once a pretty woman
security guard insisted on touching all the metal that alarmed and I
was treated to the experience of having her hands touch all six garter
tabs on my legs and both wires on the bra. It was a great
experience.
Due to the current security situation, I no longer enjoy this
experience and have quit doing it. I don't want the hassle of a
"personal" inspection. I'm not certain of Homeland's Security policy
on secret crossdressers wearing girdles and underwire bras
I'm upgrading my collection. There is so much shopping now on line.
For example, the Promenade Dance shop is online and has satin petti-
pants with layer after layer of pretty pink frills all round. Although
these are quite comfy when under a skirt or dress, when worn under
trousers to work they are great. I can feel them pressing against me
all the time.
The most humiliating experience happened last year, We stopped at an
"In and out" on way to vegas I was wearing short gray shorts with
Shadowline pink panties underneath. High schoolers saw me with panties
peeking out and started chanting, "Panty-boy, sissy, panty man, Look,
he's wearing panties." My wife demanded, "Sit there and finish your
sandwich." Terribly exciting, total humiliation, caused huge erection.
The teens crowded around to look. I made it to the car with my face
and penis burning....
For the new year, I decided that I would wear bras along with
panties. For special occasions, like going to the gym (during off
hours to avoid detection) or the doctors, I will wear matching panties
and bra. One guy whistled at me in the locker room, but my MD didn't
even blink!
My bras now feel natural on me, and I feel naked without a bra. Order
stretch under-wires online, and you can wear women's sizes. Due to my
girth, I order six to eight inches smaller than my chest size. Bras
are warm, comfortable, and actually give me support. I take out the
underwire by putting a small hole next to the end of the wire and
thread the wire out. That way, the underwire doesn't poke me in the
armpit.
Recently my wife and I got into a fritz. She noticed I was spending a
long time in the shower. Of course the shower was the only time I get
to go without a bra. And it seemed that I would be in the shower for
so long. I bought some new bras to wear in the shower. ow I have to
take my regular bras off, and then get into a different bra in the
shower. The feeling of soap against nylon is excellent. Now I sleep
in bras, I has some very lacy pink bras just for bedtime wear, so now
I'm in bras literally 24 hours a day every day.
If you look carefully, you may see the panty boy with pink panties
peeking out!