A serious note

Every once in a while I think about this. I guess it had some effect on my life but I am not really sure.

When I was a young sissy, starting when I was maybe 11 or 12, I was allowed to walk across town from my neighborhood to the downtown shopping district. I was even allowed to do so by myself, which was pretty amazing considering all the bad things that might have happened. Most of the time you had a partner with you, but sometimes you had to meet somebody and went off on your own.

One night I was walking back home across this bridge and a man from the neighborhood was coming towards me. I knew this man and I knew where he lived. I would see him around all the time. When he said hello to me I thought nothing of it and he chatted me up a little bit. What we talked about I have long ago forgotten and when I started on my way he walked along with me and we kept talking about whatever. What was funny was at that point he had been walking in the other direction.

So he walked with me. I was still pretty far from home.  I began to take my usual shortcut route through some back yards and he stayed with me. At one point he said let's stop for a little bit so we did. I remember sitting on the grass in someone's back yard and he sat right there with me. And close to me. I remember that he smelled of booze. And I remember that he touched me on the arms and legs. I was wearing my usual girlie clothes of short shorts and a tank top and flip flips with panties underneath. I probably had started to shave my legs about that time too.

What I have never been able to recall is why I stayed there sitting with him longer than I should have. About this same time I had been playing house with my sissy friend Timmy and there was at that time no doubt what a sissy I was. But I really had never had any thoughts of being around a man at that age. Never occurred to me. Timmy and I would dress up and prance around as sissies.

So I'm sitting there with this man and then we are lying in the grass and he caressed my arms and legs. Then he put his hand down my shorts and into my panties (well, probably my sister's) and started playing with me. I remember it all being surreal and not knowing what to do. This went on for what seemed like a long time but I bet it was 15 minutes. What got me out of there was he tried to pull down my shorts and panties. I panicked at that point and got out of there. remember saying something like my parents were probably out looking for me and would look about where we were.

I remember how I hustled home, almost ran and was pretty much in tears all the way. I thought about it all night and I was pretty upset. What if I ran into that man again? Should I tell on him? What if I tell on him and he gets mad? I just did not know what to do. Then after a number of days I remember feeling guilty about getting myself in that situation to begin with.

Over the next several months and year I kept thinking about it. And as I have written about before, at this same time Timmy and I were playing house and eventually invited some other boys to join us and we began giving them sissy favors. I'd keep thinking about this man and why I did not get out of there fast. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized this: I liked it! I was a sissy and I was born to be with guys and be nice to them. I began thinking and dreaming about being with that man and being his sissy and giving him sissy favors like Timmy and I were giving to our boyfriends. I wanted him to hold me and caress and kiss like we were headed that night and I abruptly ran away from. I quit having any thoughts of telling on that man. Time had passed anyway, but I no longer faulted him for anything. I was quite mixed up as you can probably understand as a fellow sissy.


I would go by that man's house and I found out he was married to a pretty lady. He was just drunk when he sat and walked with me, I figured. I never had any contact with him, ever. But I thought about him and I began to think about strong men in general at that point. I would eye up strong men at the pool changing room and think about being in their arms. Did that man do that to me? Probably not. I was born a sissy and he probably was the spark that really got me into thinking about men and I just happened to be at the right age to do so.

Well, there is a serious story for you, as best as I can remember. The funny thing is that every once in a while it pops into my head and maybe another long-lost detail comes back to me.

I posted it to see if maybe I am not alone. Did anyone else who looks in here have such an experience as a young sissy? 

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