Return To Leeds

Return to Leeds – A little more footage. It’s so thrilling to feel the men glancing at me as I work my way across the station. I squirm delightfully with pleasure. Well they certainly recognise true femininity when they see it! As I walk over to Main Station the reality of my little plan hits me. I’d been so busy rushing around I’d given no thought to how all this would place me completely on show. My heads all in a whirl as I change from flats into these impossible stilettos. Luckily they fit my feet perfectly and snugly as I will be teetering so vulnerably on the high heels for the next hours. Initially I can barely walk, let alone with any elegance as the transition from the flats comes so unexpected. But mercifully after a few minutes my muscles adapt and I settle into tottering along. I stop panicking and partially settle down. My attention spreads, to my surroundings together with the whole sensation of how I feel in this moment. There’s the inescapable steepness of my feet, the tension on my ankles but then there’s the sense of the sheer stockings clinging to my perfectly smooth legs as they form a second silky skin. There is simply nothing to compare with the sensation of thin nylons covering delicate soft white legs. In my short skirt and high heels so much of my legs are placed unavoidably on show. Encased in a film of fragile nylon they are laid out bare for a man’s large rough hands, to tease and tempt him. Can he temper his roguish cravings enough perhaps, to touch and caress this ultra-smoothness as he so desires without damage to this fragile porcelain doll-like girl? My silky satin panties fit snugly but are brief around my bottom where I feel the tension of the suspender straps pulling slightly on my cheeks as they extend their way down to clip into the lacy barely-black stocking tops. Attempting to walk carefully and gracefully in these high heeled stilettos thrusts my bottom out beneath the fairly tight-fitting suit skirt. My hips wriggle to each side with the movement as my thighs move inside the skirt against the satin lining making me conscious of the inches of bare skin and bottom above the stocking tops. As I set off towards the station entrance then on across the expanse of the concourse each step heightens these intimate sensations thrusting me further into the feminine state. Out in public I’m left with no choice – I can hardly stop walking and take off my stockings to stop the caressing feeling, can I? But anyway my legs are freshly waxed and ultra-smooth. And so I walk onwards, helplessly surrendering to it all. Committed to experience all these sensations. Forced into womanhood. So much has become second nature. The way I walk, place my feet and position my legs. I no longer resist the force exerted on my lower back from the high heels, the push out of my bottom or the motion of my hips. I sink deep into the unavoidable feminine shape and movement imposed upon me. Then there’s the need to stay continually mindful of each element of my outfit. Ensuring that the skirt lies smoothly over my bottom to give a smooth line whilst barely covering the lacy stocking tops. Even the simple act of bending has to be carefully considered and performed. Stockings must stay perfectly secure and seams, if I’m wearing them must be continuously monitored. And then of course I have to carefully watch where I’m placing each step to ensure the ultra-thin heels remain on solid ground. My carefully applied make-up highlights all my feminine features and pretty red painted lips match my long nails. Avoiding rushing I walk easily with my pelvis, one foot front placed in front of the other causing my hips to roll and sway naturally. My shoulders are dropped pushing out my boobs – but not so much that I look unnatural or tarty. My large hooped earrings sit prettily down from my pierced ears confirming my femininity. Then because I am quite petite and attractive there are all the issues of simply going out and interacting – to always ensure that I don’t place myself where I can be pestered, harassed or worse. And so a thousand details to pay attention to – the freedom to be a female? Any fool, can put on a pair of frilly panties and kid themselves they look feminine but the outfit – the external appearance is a tiny percentage isn’t it. What’s the point of being a girl if you can’t enjoy all the sensualities of being female? I have started on this long and incredible journey. I’ve got a long way still to go but I love every step and truly hope that I fit in and don’t offend anybody. Thank you for indulging with me. Amanda x

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