Caption of the Month - XIV

I don't know what it is about this caption, but it sure as hell gets my motor running!  Great job for the month, Abbey Girl!

Cap of the Week - LXI

What is there not to love about his caption?  It's got gradual feminization, chastity, humiliation...it's got it all!  Great job, Lyndsey Gurl!

Re-Blog Wednesday - 63

While I'm saying things...

I just love everything about his caption!  The model, the lingerie, the message.  It's goddamn spectacular! 

Via: Loving Pink Sissy

Cap of the Week - LX

Sissy Review - VIII

 

 

 

Today we’re covering a tumblr that has slipped under my radar for quite a while, Nothing for Him.  This is a pretty good tumblr that has been in operation since 2015, where original captions have always seemed to make up the bulk of the content.  These captions tend to be short and to the point.  While a few captions take a slightly more fleshed-out tone, they never seem to get long enough to warrant the label "story."  What isn’t original content tends to be a heady, sissy-gasm inducing video that is sure to brighten the day of any sissies out in the internet.  For those of you who like your sissies chastised and your orgasms ruined to non-existent alongside domineering, beautiful, strong women who regard you as an afterthought, at best, this is definitely a tumblr worth visiting. 

 

While I always applaud original content, and I almost universally love the videos, there are a few issues I see the tumblr running into.  First of all, NfH runs into the same problem that I had with Cum Loving Hubby in that some of the captions seem like they were made by a random word generator that is programmed to use the same key phrases over and over.  If you spend too much at NfH, you’ll see the words “orgasm,” “ruined,” and “ass licking” in every conceivable combination contained within the English language.  Now, that’s not to say that NfH doesn’t break out of this mold, but it does spend enough time within it that I couldn’t help but notice.  But, for as much content as this tumblr puts out, it would be hard not to start repeating yourself.  I mean, if you have a formula that works, I’d say have at it!  Just…you know…brush your teeth afterwards.

 

Update Schedule: Pretty frequent

Typical Posts: Original Captions (both in ass-licking and non-ass-licking flavors...heh, joke!), and re-posted movies.

Typical subject: Chastity, ruined orgasms, cuckholding, femme domme, and the occasional ass-lickery.

Extra Points: Lotta, lotta original content. 

Paid content: None

Would like to see more...variety in captioned keywords.

Final Rating 4 out of 5 Ass-licking Ass-lickers

 

 

Re-Blog Wednesday - 62

My Life as a Sissy Maid XXV

Cap of the Week - LIX

Simple, sexy, beautiful.  Words that we should all heed!  Who knows?  Maybe we'll get lucky and someone will notice!  Great work from Abbey Girl!

I 💓 Hypno Gifs - 21

Re-Blog Wednesday - 61

Gotta say...

I'm seeing more and more of these as time goes on...and I'm liking them more and more...

Cap of the Week - LVIII

I don't know why, but I love this caption.  Her confident superiority in knowing that we'll do whatever she asks of us...

Sissy Biography - VIII

Eventually, I decided to finally take the great leap that I believe all sissies do at one point or another: I started wearing panties underneath my male clothes.  We all know that first big leap to wearing panties outside…the feel of the fabric, the new way the waistband fits, how free the legs feel, the knowledge that you have a sissy-sexy secret that no one else knows, the fear of getting caught…those first few times going out in panties are as nerve wracking as they are erotic, which, in my case, made the whole situation even more erotic.  Making eye contact with people while indulging my sissy habits was enough to make me go flush and lose all the blood in my head—especially with cute girls.  Are they smirking at you because they know, or are they just being friendly?  Which situation is better?  I remember one cashier with piercing, frosty blue eyes, who made eye contact with me to ask for my credit card.  I knew she meant nothing by it, but just making eye contact with her was such an intense experience that I felt my cock quiver in my panties.  There was something about the placid smile and the eye contact and the tone of her voice when she said, “Debit or credit, sweetie?”  In that moment I felt like I transcended space and time.  I had to clear my throat three times before I could even answer.

I knew then and I know now that she was just doing her job, but wearing my sissy-panties in public had heightened the experience to such a degree that even casual verbal contact seemed like an incredible sexual tête-à-tête.  A part of me wanted her to know, a part of me wanted to tell her…the rational part of me held firm that mentioning anything would be a stupid move.  I listened to my rational side.

Of course, this brief escapade pales in comparison to my first time buying panties from a real woman.  Prior to this moment, I had, like most sissies, bought my panties and lingerie exclusively online.  Online shopping is probably the greatest boon to the sissy community since…I don’t really have a way to finish that sentence, but what could be better than the ability to amass a sissy collection without the risk of exposure?  Without this ability, many sissies would never get the chance to indulge themselves.  I mean, how many of us could honestly go to a store and a look a cashier in the eye, early on in our sissy-hood?  How many of us live in a small town where that behavior was untenable?  People talk, after all.  Online shopping gives us the ability to safely begin our forays into our new lives.

For me, however, online shopping was no longer enough.  I’ve mentioned a few times that I had also begun to sprout interests in humiliation, so what could possibly be better than pairing that with indulging my panty-wearing?  That was the justification, anyways.

Planning out this shopping trip was like something out of Ocean’s 11.  I needed to figure out my venue (the Victoria’s Secret about two towns over), I needed to know where the exits were, I needed to learn the layout, and I needed to learn the clientele, just in case I ran the risk of running into someone I knew.  Even if I was partly doing this for the exhilaration, I felt the need to minimize the risks, this meant having a plan…Of course, this plan went out the window the minute I set foot inside the store.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that the only thing weirder than a guy walking around a Victoria’s Secret alone was a lone guy trying to do reconnaissance for an inevitable return trip.  Point of fact: I just needed to man-up and get my panty-buying job done.

I was lucky in the respect that it was near Valentine’s Day when I planned my shopping expedition, so I could always play it off as though I was buying lingerie as a sexy present.  The downside?  The store was packed.  The Victoria’s Secret I decided on was in a college town, which meant the place was absolutely filled with young coeds.  I honestly couldn’t tell if it was a blessing or a burden.  On the one hand, that many people in such a small space meant that the staff had their hands full with customers, on the other, I was still one of only a few guys, and I was the only one without a girl to accompany him.  In my mind, at least, this made me stand out, though I still doubt many people paid me any mind.

 

I was awash in a sissy wonderland, surrounded by lingerie running the gamut of cute to sensual to sexy representing all the colors of the rainbow—Every cut, every style, every fabric represented.

I felt my pulse banging from my chest through my neck and into the blood vessels in my head.  I tried to calm my breath to keep myself from becoming a weird spectacle, even though, again, I doubt anyone took notice.

I wandered the store, attempting to look confident and casual, as though I were looking for something particular, just the right thing for a girlfriend who may or may not exist.

The plan was to grab a couple pairs of red panties, and a red lace negligee to fit my Valentine’s Day gift narrative.  I wandered around, quickly finding the negligee, but having to take my time with the panties, wanting to find something both within my budget and within my tastes.

“Do you need help finding anything, sir?” Came a lilting voice from behind.

I turned to see a short, 20-something blonde girl with luxuriously mascaraed eyes highlighting a pair of deep–greens.  She was wearing the black uniform required of all VS employees, and she was stark-raving beautiful.

I don’t know how long I looked her in eyes, but I know it was long enough for her to blink at least three times.

“No,” I finally croaked out, “I’m fine.”

“Well, if you need anything, feel free to let me know,” she said before turning and walking back into the V-Day fray.

I felt hot under the collar.  I remember because, until that point, I always thought it was just a saying.  I pivoted my head in an attempt to get some air, and let out a quick panicky yet aroused breath.  I wasn’t sure how many more of those encounters I could take before…something happened, so I stepped up the pace in my hunt for new panties.  I picked one red-satin pair of hip-huggers from a kiosk, and another red-satin bikini-cut from a shelf.

Panties in hand, I turned to make my triumphant walk to the cashier line, which turned out was only three steps away.  Apparently, everybody had decided to finish their shopping at the exact same time.  If you would have asked me at the time, I would have told you the cashier was roughly half a mile away, but when I think about it, I imagine there were only about six people in front of me.

I was in a bind.  I both wanted the line to move more quickly to get me out of there, but I also wanted the line to stop, so I wouldn’t face the scrutiny of the cashier.  I breathed deeply and stood in line, flanked by a college coed, and young professional woman, both of which could have made me faint by merely talking to me as I had become that revved up.

I kept trying to concentrate on my breathing, and soon found myself at the front of the line.  I stood face-to-face with what I would wager was the shift manager: A sandy-blonde woman in her mid-40’s who seemed to meticulously take care of herself.  If my senses weren’t so heightened by this point, I doubt I would have noticed the laugh lines, or the well make-upped sun-damaged skin.  Whatever minor imperfections she may have had, she was still an incredibly attractive woman—an incredibly attractive woman from which I was about to buy panties for my own personal use.

 

I couldn’t help but wonder how many sissies she and the other staff-girls saw on a daily basis.  I wondered whether or not they had developed some sort of radar for the “men” who bought panties for themselves.

“Is this everything?” she asked with a smile and a confident tone.

“Uh…yeah,” I replied with a smile and the opposite.

I handed over my items—my lingerie—which she grabbed, one at a time, taking the time to remove the tags from each.  She grabbed the two pairs of panties, looking at each of them, before looking up at me, and back down to the panties.  She looked at the tags of each pair and look back to me one last time.

“Sir, are you aware that these panties are two different sizes?” She said with earnestness, as though she was genuinely concerned about my purchase.

“What?” I said with the exact opposite of poise.

“They’re the same style, but they’re two different sizes.  Is that how you wanted them?”

I looked down at them in disbelief.  I honestly had no idea how I managed to think they were two different styles (I still don’t), but when I looked down at them, there was no mistaking it; I had picked two identical styles of panties (the red hip-huggers) of two different sizes.  I felt the beginning of sweat begin to bead underneath my hairline.  I had to think quickly.

 

“Oh, uhh—yeah.  I wasn’t exactly sure what size my girlfriend is, so I thought I’d hedge my bets.”  (Note: I swear to god, this was what I actually said.  There is no writer’s license, no creative embellishment, I honestly used the phrase “hedge my bets” within the context of sizing up my imaginary girlfriend).

The manager took it in stride, asking, “You sure you don’t want to go grab something else, real quick?”

I declined the offer, and grabbed my debit card as she finished ringing me up, giving me the same opportunity to sign up for the preferred customer’s card that she did the other customers.  I, again, declined, and finished paying for my purchases.  I grabbed my receipt and my bag, making it about five steps before hearing, “Sir, don’t forget your panties!”

I swear, when I heard those words, the room slowed down and I almost came in my pants.  I turned around to see the manager holding the panties in her outstretch hand, her arm highlighted by a golden bracelet on her wrist.  I had apparently left both pairs of panties on the counter and grabbed the Victoria’s Secret bag before she could place them inside.

I took a quick breath, walked back, allowed her to bag my purchase, gave an uncomfortable thanks, and headed out in what was probably the most obvious failure at looking casual I had ever experienced.

I still think about that moment, from time to time, the discomfort of the situation, the awkward exchange and the possible covert insinuation of ownership, “Don’t forget your panties.”  Obviously, I’ll never know if she was hinting at knowing who the panties were really for, or if she was just used to addressing customers in that specific manner.  If I had to guess, I would say that latter, but the way she said it sticks with me—a lilting nonchalance, almost sing-song in its execution.

“Don’t forget your panties.”

Re-Blog Wednesday - 60

Retro Caption - 24

Here's a great one from Rauk22.  It was a great blog that became a tumblr that, unfortunately, has become defunct.

Cap of the Week - LVII

I have to say, I think Ariana Grande is one of creation's most beautiful creatures.  I can nary think of anything more perfectly made...and now she's wanting me to give a self-facial...I don't know if I can take it!

I 💓 Hypno Gifs - 20

Re-Blog Wednesday - 59