#642641
Eva LaFey
Lady
Registered On: April 13, 2022
Topics: 0
Replies: 2
Has thanked: 1 time
Been thanked: 12 times

In my earliest memories, at about 3 years old, I was wearing my older sister’s hand-me-downs. She would dress me up in skirts, dresses, sometimes a wig. I remember how much I loved the corset with the tiny, pink flower on the front. That was my favorite! Being a little kid, I didn’t realize everyone wouldn’t be as excited as I was about the corset. At the dinner table, I pulled up my shirt to show everyone how pretty it was. My father, a self-proclaimed alpha male, blew up. From then on, I had to be in dull, boring boy’s clothes before he got home from work. My days were spent in colorful and fun girl clothes. I was so happy, until time to change so my father wouldn’t blow his top. Somewhere around 4 or 5, I refused to wear my sister’s panties. I still wanted to wear her dresses and such, but I guess societies expectations had started to become clear to me. The end of my childhood in skirts was when I was about 6. I was walking to school when I realized I was still wearing nail polish. I frantically tried to scrub it off in the sandbox outside the classroom. All day I hid my hands, hoping none of the other boys would notice. A few times after that, when I was out of clean underwear, my mother would give me a pair of my sister’s panties to wear for the day. I loved all the little flowers on them; it made me feel pretty.

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