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6
Jul
Own up! we’ve all got one: a sissy slag story about the morning after, when lady luck changed her mind. A universal tale of bum-clenching sissy humiliation, knowing looks, public transport and the inappropriate click-clack of spike heels at 7am on a weekday.
Last summer, after a serious fancy dress party, I had a mortifying stumble home at 8.45 in high heels, torn fishnet tights, smeared make-up and a skirt no wider than a belt. I looked a total sissified mess. All great fun the night before when shielded by other party goers dressed as vicars and tarts but rather less appealing when on your own amongst normally dressed commuters. I simply hadn’t factored in the stagger home the next day.
But lately something has happened. The “morning after” look has morphed from ignominy to desirability – the walk of shame has become chic. At least for the cream of our trendy youth, worldwide. Just check out your cities tabloid and there they are. It appears, for them at least, the walk home in night-before clothes – chipped-varnish, unbrushed hair and a squirt of eau de sex is cool.
This can only mean one thing. At last you can be proud of partying all night. Sissys… wear your shame with pride. Being a little rough around the edges is at last a good thing. Look like you are living a little and have fun.
10:45 am on July 7th, 2009
I laddered a stocking the other night at a party and was so embarrassed walking home… If that was my only worry… I also lost my panties… but no shame there
))
10:32 am on July 16th, 2009
As a girl from the House you of all sissies should know you should never go out unprepared. Every pretty girl must carry a fresh spare pair of panties in their purse along with their make-up etc.
I suggest before dolling yourself up like a tart and behaving like a sissy slut you familiarise yourself with the Behaviour Modification Assignments and avoid being caught short!
10:50 am on September 4th, 2009
I once allowed a friend of mine to fix me up on a blind date with a man she knew. She had arranged for us to meet at a downtown gay bar. Normally as a rule of thumb I don’t go on blind dates but she was so insistent and agreed that her and her girlfriend would be there so I agreed.
I should have listened to that inner voice the night turned out to be a total disaster. First he showed up almost 30 minutes late never offering any explanation and within 15 minutes had downed two martinis. That being said he was really good looking and seemed to have a really good sense of humor. And the more I let my guard down the more we seemed to hit it off.
About two hours later my girlfriend and her partner left and the guy I was wish suggested we go to another bar a couple miles down the road. As I only lived about 10 minutes away from the bar where we met I had walked so we decided to take his car but he had a few more drinks so he gave me the keys and I drove.
When we arrived at the club uptown it was crowded and the loud and we ended up having to stand at the corner of the bar where my date continued downing martinis like they were water while he looked around at everyone but me. After about an hour of this I couldn’t take it anymore so I suggested we leave. Again he was in no condition to drive so I took the keys and no sooner had he got in the car when he passed out. I was able to wake him only long to ascertain his address so I would know where to drop him.
What a disaster of a date was all I could think of. When we arrived at his apartment and opened his door he finally came too but I needed to help him into his unit. When we got the door open all of the sudden he was all over me like a blanket as he kept trying to grope my breasts and kiss me. Fortunately as we fell to the couch he passed out again and I left throwing his keys on the counter as I closed the door that locked behind me.
I had intended to call a taxi but realized I didn’t have my cell phone with me. I couldn’t get back into his apartment which meant I had to walk the two and a half miles back down main street a heavily traveled street on weekend nights back to my apartment. I stopped at a quick shop about half way along the way to buy a bottle of water and was horrified when I saw my reflection in the glass cooler door. I immediately ran to the bathroom to fix my hair and makeup and noticed I had several huge runs in my 7 denier nylons. Not only had this idiot ruined my night but now my stockings. I had gotten hot and sweaty, my hair was a mess, my nylons ruined and I hadn’t even had sex.
It was a long embarrassing walk home. I looked like I had been totally ravaged and to make matters worse I knew I would be sleeping alone again that night.