FIRST ENCOUNTERS
GRABBING THE RING!
CREDENCE'S SPLIT PERSONALITY
I was about 6 and my stepsister was about 14. One day, I got into her closet and put on a black skirt of
hers. I had just fastened it and was starting into the living room to show the family how pretty I was, when
Sis caught me. There was a terrific uproar over all that and I was upset that she didn't want to share.
When much younger, I'd been treated as a girl, long hair dresses the whole thing. I didn't understand
until much later that my mother was quite insane. When she married my step father, he threw a fit and
suddenly I was one of those "boys". He didn't like me much and my mother was certainly not on my side any
longer.
Our family didn't get along at all and there were frequent beatings for all 8 of us.
I can remember the first time I'd become aroused was when we watched a 50's version of
Beauty and the Beast. I so wanted to be Beauty. Later, I was playing outside and had climbed a huge rope we used as a swing
and found myself thinking about the movie. The rope running between my legs produced and exquisite
tension. I was so surprised and didn't know what to think when nature took its course. I began to make
frequent trips to the swing after that.
Later, we moved and my younger brother and I were alone in the house for about an hour at lunch. I used
to fix him soup and run upstairs to Sis' room. I'd put on one of her crinies and one of her dresses and hang
myself from the balcony. It proved to be the high point of those lonely days after we'd moved.
Again, we moved and I found and old garage behind some houses which were being torn down. Inside were boxes
of 50's women's magazines and women's clothes. What a find!! I spent many days over there until they tore
everything down to build a freeway.
The best time was in the early 70's when the house we lived in had boxes and boxes of
women's corsets and things. I had a great time with them.
Each time the CD episodes went on until I was consumed with guilt and I'd stop, often destroying everything.
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