School plays

[SuzyBoyd]

One of my earliest memories of cross-dressing was when I was around eight or nine years old, and had stumbled across a child's mini kilt that was abandoned at the side of a waste disposal unit outside our home. The kilt was on top of other discarded clothing and was quite clean, had obviously been freshly laundered and ironed. It was left there as if it was hoped someone else could make use of the items rather than them being thrown away. I had an overwhelming desire to take it and try it on. When I picked up the kilt I got a strange buzz, a kind of vibration I had never felt before. I took it back home and tried it on in my bedroom, and enjoyed the feeling, although there were no sexual undertones, as I was nowhere near puberty at the time, although that strange vibration was there again. I still don't know what happened to the kilt, my Mum must have found it, eventually. No doubt an awkward questions and answers session must have followed, maybe even punishment (I was raised in a strict Catholic family) as sometimes I would have to suffer being spanked with my dads leather belt. Although such punishment is almost banished in today's society, it was commonplace then, in the sixties.Although I do seem to recall wearing a kilt and stuffing two balloons up my jumper and prancing around a room full of my family with aunties and uncles, singing: "tra la-la, tra la-loo, Look at me, I'm Danny la Rue." One day I stood there like a teapot, with one hand on my hips, arm bent at a right angle, with the other hand pointing somewhere outside the window.
"What about that Blackpool Tower eh? I've seen my fair share of
erections but that's the biggest I've ever seen." Then I fanned my face as if I was overheating. The room was silent although almost everyone seemed to be holding their breath and going purple in the face until Mum jumped up, smacked me on the bottom and quickly frog marched me out of the room. As soon as the door was shut the room exploded into the loudest burst of laughter I have ever heard. Mum gently chided me:
"Please don't tell that joke again, it's very rude"
"But everyone laughs when Uncle Phil tells it." I whined.
"I know dear, but Uncle Phil is naughty, he shouldn't tell adult jokes in front of you."
"But I love Uncle Phil!" I sobbed.
"I know dear and so do I. I blame that Danny la Rue, that's where Uncle
Phil hears all these rude jokes." Danny la Rue, I loved him, he was a drag queen, the star of the show whenever he appeared and even appeared on National TV. I loved to go to the afternoon matinees where he would perform a children's version of his cabaret act. When he sang his theme song, the Irish ballad: "Oh Danny boy," I always thought he was singing "Oh Danny Boyd" to me personally. There were a lot of female impersonators and drag queens around the Blackpool scene, as they worked in the variety halls and nightclubs of the beach piers and promenades and sp I grew up in a world where men dressing up as women seemed like a part of normal daily life.
However, I can't recall any further cross-dressing related incidents around that time, other than the annual school plays. Mum and Dad were a bit worried that I might be turning into a 'sissy boy' with the constant fussing of my sisters, and I wanted to be more like a boy than a girl, so it was arranged that I would be sent to an all boys' boarding school at the age of eleven. However, I suffered teasing whenever we had to play sports, go
swimming or worst of all, strip naked in the shower rooms. I was a little chubby kid, with rosy cheeks and soft features, and I had boy boobs.

I also used to dread the annual school play, performed on stage in front
of an audience of parents and schoolchildren, because the English teacher always chose me to play the part of a woman. Not a main part, I was never that good at acting, but usually a walk on part, with a few words to say and then I would just stand at the side of the stage, usually dressed in women's attire. Everyone had make up, to work better with the stage lighting, and of course mine would include lipstick and eye shadow. I used to get wolf whistles from sarcastic elder kids, which would always embarrass me.But that all changed a few years later when I was a little bigger and Mrs. Peacock became our new Arts and Drama teacher and introduced me to my alter-ego, Suzy! ...

[DonnaT]

Hi Suzy, to the forum.

[SilverLady(SO)]

Hi, Suzy, and welcome to the Haven!

Just a suggestion, but wander over to the New Members section and say hi to everyone.


- SL

[SuzyBoyd]

Hi, Suzy, and welcome to the Haven!

Just a suggestion, but wander over to the New Members section and say hi to everyone.
- SL

Thank you. I will do that now.

[Requal Jo]

Hi Suzy and welcome to this happy and supportive Haven. Yes, I remember the school plays and other performances where I was dressed as the female and the wonderful feelings and sensations I used to experience.

[SuzyBoyd]

Hi Suzy and welcome to this happy and supportive Haven. Yes, I remember the school plays and other performances where I was dressed as the female and the wonderful feelings and sensations I used to experience.

Thanks Requal ..
We were doing a school play called 'What the butler saw' in which I had more than my normal walk-on part. I was cast to play Suzy Rouge, a French maid and I had quite a few lines and a lot of action to perform. At the time I had just turned sixteen and was in the sixth form at school.

Mrs. Peacock had written the play and was determined to make a name for
herself, so she took me and Roger White, the leading actors in the play,
under her wing.

For months before the play began, we would be practicing our roles in
private tutorage with Mrs. Peacock instead of certain afternoon lessons.
Most of these private lessons involved just Mrs. Peacock and myself.

One day she gave me a silver gift carry bag containing clothes and she asked me to go andchange into them and then meet her on the stage floor. I made my way to the stage dressing room and sat in front of the dressing room mirror to look inside the bag.

There was a pair of bright red high heel stilettos, a packet of briefs, medium size, a grey rectangular Wal-Mart box stating 'padded bra - black - 34B.' plus three flat packets of denier tights, tan, medium.

This was most unusual, as the previous school plays had me wearing
something like an ankle length skirt and sometimes a pair of thick woolly tights, but otherwise normal underwear, and never lingerie. I was quite intrigued and the fact that I was doing this under official instruction made me feel a bit special. I didn't have any experience with girls, but like all horny young lads, I looked at the 'dirty' magazines that some kids would sneak into school. Even the shopping catalogues, with the woman's lingerie section, were a great source of inspiration and comfort to a young sex-starved lad.

Now I was actually holding some of these items in my hands for the very
first time. So many thoughts were racing through my head. My oommates
were going to be so jealous, I wondered if Mrs. Peacock would let me keep them? I doubt it, but I wonder if I could sneak the bra back? I could tell everyone that I took it off a real girl who was in the play and she showed me her boobs: "Here, feel" I would say: "The bra is still warm from where her boobs where!"

Then reality sank in again as I realised that they would just say something like: "Rubbish! Your Mum just bought you a bra because of yourman boobs" and the joke would be on me again.

I realized that Mrs. Peacock would be waiting for me, so I snapped out of my daydream: took my shirt and tie off and tried the bra on, or should I say I tried to put the bra on.

I struggled to fix the bra clasp, looking like Harry Houdini trying to escape from a straitjacket, my arms and legs were swirling like an octopus battling a submarine and at one stage I thought I might have to call for Mrs. Peacock to help, but somehow I finally managed to fix it on.

I was already a bit hot and bothered as I now dropped my trousers: took off my underpants and socks then really struggled to get the tights on. I dug my fingers in too tight when pulling them up and ripped a big hole in them. I had to open another packet and try to gently roll them on this time.

By the time I had finished I put the briefs on, a pair of light blue cotton knickers, only to realize that I should probably have put the knickers on before the tights. It was too late now: I wasn't going to struggle putting the tights back on.

No wonder it took Mum so long to get ready. I walked across to the sink and cooled myself down with cold water in the washbowl before rubbing myself dry with a towel.

I looked at my image in the mirror and decided that I looked silly and that I wasn't going to walk around looking like that, what if some of the other kids saw me? It would be so embarrassing. I decided I would put my school jacket on to cover my embarrassment.

Then I sat down and put the high heels on and tried to stand up but almost sprained my ankle and had to sit straight down again. I tried again, this time holding on to the table for support and I managed to stand straight as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Now I looked much different, with the blazer and high heels, although I couldn't actually see the shoes or my feet in the mirrors reflection.

The shoes had somehow changed the shape of my body. My bra seemed to be pushed out at the front and yet my bum was also jutting out at the back.
How bizarre! I'd never noticed that before, so I posed in the mirror, opening my jacket to reveal my bra and sticking my bum even further out and waggling it about.

There was a rat-a-tat tat knock on the door and I closed my jacket and
sat down facing the mirror with my back to the door and whoever was
behind it. I prayed that it wasn't any of the other kids.

Mrs. Peacock shouted through the door, which was now slightly ajar, as
she peeped through:
"Come along dear, we haven't got all day."
"I'm ready. I'm coming" I stuttered as I struggled to get up and I made my way to the door by sliding along the wall for support.
The stage curtains were closed and it turned out that I was going to have to practice walking across the stage in high heels. Mrs. Peacock walked over to the tape deck and slipped a cassette in, the first record was 'Take a walk on the wild side' by Lou Reed.

At least I knew she had a sense of humour. She laughed as she watched me struggling to balance upright.
"Oh dear! It looks like I've got a job on my hands here. Stand still."
Mrs. Peacock came over to me and started to balance a heavy book on the
top of my head. It soon slipped off and I caught it before she grabbed it and balanced it on my head again.

"Deep breaths hold your shoulders back, head straight. Good, good, now
move forward slowly."
The book fell off repeatedly, but Mrs. Peacock seemed to have limitless
patience "Slip your shoes off dear, let's get back to basics."

As I kicked the shoes off I suddenly noticed that Mrs. Peacock was a good two or three inches taller than me, I was five feet five inches and she was about the same height as me. I looked down and saw that Mrs.Peacock was wearing four-inch high heels.

She was a typical school ma'am, middle aged, chubby, hair tied back in a tight sensible bun, thick black horn rimmed glasses and just the slightest trace of lipstick. Very prim and proper, a real 'no nonsense' lady.

Mrs. Peacock would walk along balancing a book on her head to
demonstrate how it should be done, and then she would walk behind me,
ready to catch me as I wobbled about. Then she told me to sit down as
she put a relaxation tape on, with sounds of the ocean waves crashing
against the shore and before long I would be drifting off to sleep. I could hear her voice whispering that I was Suzy Rouge, a French catwalk model whose job entailed walking in high-heeled shoes to show off the latest Paris fashions. I was beautiful, sexy and confident.

When the tape stopped I would slip on the shoes and start walking along with total confidence. After a few days or so I could have easily got a job walking down a fashion catwalk.

[Martha G]

Hi and welcome!