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Author:

There are many days when the loneliness I feel is so intense that I write erotic stories and imagine myself involved with the man of my dreams as I become, through his direction, guidance, commands and hands-on assistance, the gurl of his dreams.
I will bathe, shave my body, douche and then slide my 9,.5 inch dildo up inside until only a couple of millimeters of the tip protrude from my sphincteral opening. I have actually taken it completely inside. Ten minutes later it had worked its way deeper and I was almost unable to retrieve it. Perhaps someday I'll just go ahead and do that anyway so I can make that trip to the emergency room. After I fill myself with the dildo, I cench a cable tightly around my waist so that it cuts into my skin. I tie a strand of elastic to the front of the "belt" and run it through my legs, up through my crack and under the belt. The strand of elastic is long enough that I can run its length back through my legs two more times thus holding the dildo firmly in place. I dream of having my boyfriend put me in a chastity device that completely restricts access to my opening. A chastity where he has the only key.
After I secure the dildo, I slip into my first pair of panties. I fantasize that I have different quotations and sayings embroidered on the gusset which he'll see as he removes them with his mouth. I then slip into a pair of pink nylon panties. I love nylon panties. They make me feel whole, happy and complete. Then into a pair of skin squeezing pink tights and bra. I do a little self-dondage then.
I use a heavy cord to bind my ankles close together so that my gate is limited to baby steps. The cord is long enough that I also wrap it around both legs just below my knees and then secure it tightly to the end of the cable which hangs from my makeshift belt. I make a slip knot with another long cable, loop it over my head and bring it down around my neck. I draw it tight, run the free end of the cable through the bindings at my knees and then back up where I tie it to the choker. I secure my wrists with another cable so that my reach is limited. The only problem with this is that I can escape. I want to belong to a man who'll bind me up tightly and I have no way of escaping.
I pretend that I'm cooking our meals, washing our clothes, running our baths, making our bed, washing our dishes, cleaning our home and smiling broadly as we hold hands when he takes me shopping.

Crazzy?
perhaps.
Impossible?
I hope not.

So now that I've described some things I like to do, I'll begin the next chapter with a story called "Little Gurl Panties." I was about eight years old when I first discovered just how much I love wearing women's clothing. That'll be the focus of my next chapter.