I do not form attachments easily to people but I have a strange way of putting ‘human’ qualities on other things. I recently went through my lovely large walk in closet and ran my fingers over all the pretty things I own: lace, ribbons, fur, leather, straps, buckles, whips, heels.
It is time to let some things go but this is not the sort of stuff you can donate to VV Boutique (Value Village for Canadians) or Good Will (for Americans) I mean I am sure this would have the nice old white haired ladies down at my local church run second hand store stroking out. PC was creeped out by the image of a great grandmother in latex baking cookies.
What is so odd about that right? These are expensive fetish items in great condition (only worn for a few minutes usually quickly removed) but some of the things had not even been worn.
Well I actually wanted these things to go to a good home. To someone that would use them, feel sexy, give in and take charge and wear them with pride while tormenting some pour soul to death. Some men love it when the ladies dress up a bit, other guys could care less, but I think most women will agree that we have personal items of clothing that comfort us, compliment us, but most of all inspire us to misbehave because we feel sexy.
I took each hanger with care and removed the garments, holding them up in the air and let fond memories and intentions flow – of course every garment I picked up I thought ‘not this one, I will use it next week’ or ‘well this was so expensive’ or ‘this one makes my tits look great’ but I put greed aside because I was on a personal mission.
If I have not worn it in the past two years it is going.
I hand washed everything, hung them to dry and took pictures of each article of clothing. I then folded them with care and placed them in their own separate bags. I wrote out an ad for Craigslist of all places. I kept my expectation realistic, after all this is ‘used’ fetish clothing so I was reasonable in pricing and open to negotiation but I was confident my plan would work: even in buttfuck Indiana.
And it did work!
“Trans and Cross Dressers! Kink/fetish lot of clothing and boots/shoes”
Something we ladies take for granted perhaps, the natural ease with which we walk into a mall and coo over ‘cute lingerie’ while shopping with our girlfriends when some poor guy is stuck at home alone having to order them online, only to be disappointed when they arrive because he did not know the right size or that it would look like crap on him.
Worse is knowing that a lot of crossdressers are in fact ‘in the closet’ so to speak so much so that I was surprised I did not find one in mine. It can be terribly isolating, alienating, not having one person who will not judge you – let alone having a public venue in which to look at women’s clothing and try it on – and you can beat on me all you want for saying this but there are some seriously mean Tgirls/CD’s out there who are not friendly to newbies.
Just think, some guy has got his junk tucked back in to a faux leather cat suit tonight, twirling in front of his mirror feeling good, excited and sexy and for twenty bucks – I did that!