Slices of Quince

She lived closer to your work, had a nicer place, you liked all the same stuff and you could finally get away from the shitty housemates you'd been stuck with for years. But there was one problem.

Your addiction.

You told yourself on day one it wouldn't be an issue, that you'd not indulge at all, but you didn't even make it a week before you were back in your old habits and dressing up in secret.

So you told yourself you'd only do it once every few weeks, and just like before you didn't make it a month before you were dressing up most nights, keeping a chair by the door in case your friend came knocking, but it was your clothes, you hadn't borrowed hers or stolen them.

That was a line you'd never cross.

Until you did.

You didn't raid her wardrobe a lot, but every so often, when you knew she was going to be out all night, you slipped into her room.

And what a room!

Her wardrobe seemed to go on forever, she had a larger variety of makeup than anyone you'd ever known and her shoe collection rivaled that of most malls, you never stood a chance.

But then you got sloppy, so eager to explore her wardrobe that you got the days mixed up, and that's what led to her walking in on you, mid selfie, in a dress she has bought for a wedding not two weeks ago.

Needless to say she was pissed, you had betrayed her trust, there was no hiding that, not that she made an effort to. She didn't raise her voice or call you names, but you still found yourself weeping, the consequences of your actions looming over you like a mountain, anger and shame buffeting you like a storm.

But once the shock wore off she was sympathetic.

She could see that behind the addictive thrill there was something deeper, something beautiful yet unfathomably delicate that she held in her hands at that moment.

So, she pulled you to your feet and wiped the mascara from your tear stained face and held you tightly, before picking out a new outfit for you to try on, one she felt suited your style more.

You didn't move at first, petrified at the idea of a cruel trick and suffocating from the sudden fear of losing everything you held dear, but you could see the kindness in her eyes, the understanding and most of all the love.

It was okay, it would always be okay, she had your back just like she always had, only it was more than that, because you weren't just friends anymore.

You're way past that

No boy would do the things you've done for me, let me take you the places Ive taken you and worn the things you've worn, no matter how down bad he was

So maybe it's time to stop pretending you're doing this for me

I see you, I love you and I'm so so proud of you.

Being yourself when you're like us is one of the hardest things you can do, and whether you have to hide it or not, it takes an enormous amount of bravery.

So I will say it again.

I see you.

I love you.

I'm proud of you.

Look after yourselves and have a happy holidays all!

I mean it's a gift after all, it would be rude not to wear them at least once.

You arrived home, stressed, soaked and worn out Even the loving embrace of your girlfriend wasn't the comfort it usually was.

But she loved you very much and was determined to see you smile. So she tried something new, something that always cheered her up, so maybe it was worth a shot.

She ran you a bath, getting you one of her nicest bath bombs and some soothing music to warm you up while she made her preparations, and once you were clean and warm, she helped you out, dried you off and laid out her plan.

You were going to have a girls night

You were confused at first but seeing the warmth in her eyes as she explained how it always cheered her up and the excitement when she talked about doing your makeup, it was hard not to give it a shot.

So, you played along.

She had matching nightdresses for you, having ordered hers in the wrong size and forgotten to return it, and once you were dressed she got to work on your makeup, delicately brushing highlighter and blush onto your face and carefully sculpting your eyebrows.

She gave you a subtle but pretty eye shadow look and expertly applied your mascara, finishing up with carefully painting your nails.

It was an unfamiliar experience, and certainly an umexpected one, but you felt... pampered, cared for, and without a doubt, loved.

You watched old romance movies, ate ice cream, and of course, snuggled up together on the sofa.

It was nice to be girls together, it was the first time in a long time you had felt safe and loved and yourself.

And it certainly wasn't the last.

Because your girlfriend had seen how much you'd enjoyed it, how much it meant to you, how much you'd smiled and laughed and how one of your worst days had turned into one of your best.

And there was no going back, more and more difficult days became girls nights, she took you clothes shopping at weekends, teasing you affectionately when you got shy and covering you in small kisses and affirmations when you got self concious.

I need you to be a girl, yes, I know it sounds like a strange request, but I promise it's going to be so much fun! We can help each other pick out outfits, and have sleepovers, and feel emotions for the first time since puberty together!

So please, be a girl, if not for yourself then for me.

Simple really.

But nothing was ever simple when she was involved.

You were a totally open book to her, unable to hide anything and completely, utterly, head over heels for her.

You knew your limits so when she asked if you wanted to join her and her friends for a poker night you were wary, you knew you'd lose, and badly, but an evening with her was worth it so you came along.

But when you got there, she revealed the catch, it wasn't just regular poker, it was strip poker. A chance to see her in her underwear or less was within your grasp, and all you had to do was lock in and play cards like you never had before.

And you did, you played like you'd never even heard of the game.

And before you knew it you were down to your underwear, your opponents having lost only a sweater or at most a pair of jeans.

And she hadn't lost a single hand.

But then you had your break, you had a straight, surely this would be your chance to get back on top, you bet it all, risking full nudity in front of your crush and her friends.

And then she showed her hand.

A Royal Straight Super Flush Deluxe with a Four of a kind kicker.

There was nothing you could do, other than strip.

But she offered you a way out, and a way to keep playing, and it even meant you could wear clothes again.

They would just have to be the clothes she picked out.

You didn't like the idea but you didn't like being naked either so you played along once again, at least this meant you still had a chance to see her strip too.

So you played, and being naked and anxious didn't help your already substandard skills so of course, once again you started to lose.

And every time you lost the girls picked something out for you to wear

They worked from the basics up, starting with a sexy lingerie set, then a cute little miniskirt and tight fitting crop top.

But as they dressed you, something strange happened.

You felt bolder, more confident, more sure of yourself, and you started winning some hands, even causing your crush to lose her top.

It went both directions for a while, the girls did your makeup, picked you out some stockings, even a cute pair of kitten heels, suspiciously perfectly in your size but you got a few hands off them, getting them to remove skirts and blouses, leggings and one girl even took off her bra.

But eventually it came down to you and your crush, and once again she knocked you out, but it had been fun and you had gotten to see her in her lingerie, even if the cost had been her getting to see you in her lingerie too.

But when you asked for your clothes back so you could head home, she looked confused.

She won those clothes. They were hers now and you weren't getting them back.

But she assured you it was okay, you could keep the ones you were wearing for your journey home, after all...

You'd seen what she proudly reblogged on tumblr dot com, she'd sent you smut and erotic art of all manner of things, proudly flaunting it and even joking about doing it with you.

But by far her biggest kink was forcefem.

Which made it all the stranger that she'd never suggested forcefem or any kind of crossdressing with you.

She knew you found it hot, you had never hidden that, some of your wildest fantasies were forcefem, but it was the only kink she'd never suggested exploring together.

So you pushed her, you intentionally lost a bet to let her choose your Halloween costume, only for her to choose a standard, unremarkable couples costume.

You tried joking about both wearing lingerie for her and about if she thought you'd look cute in one of her dresses and she just smiled and shrugged.

You'd even tried baiting her, making pseudo misogynistic comments about how women dressed or how easy being a girl must be, like in the very same forcefem posts she'd often reblog. But she'd just say something like "I know you don't really think that".

So you caved and just asked her directly, why did she have no interest in exploring that kink with you.

So she enlightened you.

She was perfectly happy to dress you up, eager even, but she refused to give you deniability.

She would not let you lose a bet.

She would not dare you or claim a favour.

She would not let it be a joke or a game, to be forgotten or laughed off.

You would have to beg her.

Beg her to do your makeup,

Beg her to dress you up,

Beg her to fuck you like a girl.

Additionly, all well behaved boys will be forcefemmed as a reward.

Either way there is no escaping your fate

If you've wanted to try cosplaying a female character this is your sign to do it

In fact this is more than a sign, it's an order

I'm deciding for you, you're going to do it.

We both know how much you want this, don't we?