Don't be shy I'm submissive

Morning all!

whats everyone up to?

Good morning lovely ladies x

Morning to my friends

Morning all. Hoping to meet admirers and other CD's in my area for fun and friendship. Enjoy the day despite the awful weather.

Morning girls xxx

Bow now to your *******

Looking good or not

Am looking for someone to transform into my sissy slut

Does anyone know any other CD's or admirers in or around Knowsley Liverpool? Thanks in advance. X

Something is wrong here. I’m seeing posts from up to a month ago.

Love the message... so me and be tied up ..Cx

Love the idea Hannah.... I might need a van to take all the cloths and assessories home..Cass x

Good morning everyone

Morning girls xx

The dress had lived in my saved folder for weeks: an elegant plus size kaftan, long and sweeping, described in loving detail online as a “maxi robe style” masterpiece. Bold geometric shapes danced across it, interrupted by playful polka dots, all in the richest shades of brown, deep coffee, and warm beige. No stretch, just pure, structured non stretch fabric that would drape and flow with quiet authority. Off the shoulder design that could be worn modestly high or slipped gently down for a more relaxed silhouette, and those perfect short sleeves. And then the detail that had sealed it for me a matching set of satin accessories: a hijab, a headscarf, and an oversized satin scarf, all in the same lush coffee beige family.
I’d imagined myself in it so many times. Not just wearing it, but being in it moving through a room and feeling the hem brush my ankles like a whispered promise.
The sales assistant smiled when she saw me lingering near the display. “That one’s new in,” she said, lifting the hanger with the kind of reverence usually reserved for museum pieces. “It’s even more striking up close.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Up close, the patterns were alive. The geometrics felt almost architectural, like tiny tiled courtyards from some ancient medina, while the polka dots added a mischievous modern wink. The colours were deeper than the photos had captured less flat beige, more toasted almond and espresso swirling together. I ran my fingertips over the fabric. Crisp, cool, luxuriously matte except where the satin accents caught the light and turned molten.
I asked to try it on.
In the fitting room, the kaftan slipped over my head like cool water. The weight of the non stretch fabric gave it presence; it didn’t cling, it enveloped. I adjusted the off shoulder neckline until it sat just where I wanted respectful yet softly open, framing my collarbones without apology. The short sleeves ended exactly where they should, leaving my forearms free. I turned slowly in front of the mirror and watched the skirt flare and settle, the patterns shifting like a living mosaic.
Then came the satin pieces.
I draped the hijab first, letting the silky coffee coloured length glide over my hair and shoulders. The texture was heaven smooth against my skin, cool and weightless. Next the headscarf, wrapped and tucked with practiced care (I’d watched enough tutorials to fake confidence). Finally, the oversized satin scarf, which I looped loosely around my neck and let trail down my back like a royal train in miniature.
When I stepped out of the cubicle, the assistant actually gasped quietly, politely, but it was there.
I felt… regal. Not in a loud, glittering way, but in the way old Islamic manuscript illuminations are regal: intricate, deliberate, quietly commanding attention through beauty rather than volume. The kaftan moved with me like an extension of breath. Every step sent gentle waves through the fabric, the geometric lines bending and realigning, the polka dots catching tiny sparks of that golden-hour light pouring through the shop windows.
I bought it. No hesitation.
Now, when I wear it at home in the evenings, I light a few low lamps to recreate that same warm glow. I walk slowly across the hardwood floor just to feel the hem sweep behind me. I arrange the satin scarf different ways draped over one shoulder, wrapped as a belt, left to float free and each time the mirror shows me someone new, yet completely myself.
It isn’t just a dress.
It’s the version of elegance I’d been quietly sketching in my mind for years, finally given shape in brown, coffee, and beige.
And every time I put it on, I remember that afternoon in the boutique when the light hit just right, and I finally recognised the person looking back at me.

Well.......that lasted less than 24hrs. GET RID OF THE STORIES THING!! We don't want to see a bunch of bum cracks and, explicit crap.

Kate's morning...
(Old Reminiscense)

I wish
I have again that hair
I wish I am at work in tights...
I wish I meet that Fairy Lady
Who will enlight
My days and nights...

Lets try again x morning girls xx

Something definitely a miss with this site xx

Good morning everyone

Carol Kirkwood is leaving the BBC. Whose boobs will I look at in the mornings

Hi lovies

Sexy trans lady

Not put up for awhile so here you go can have a play to these if you want

X

Love to chat

Love this out fit

As requested.

Going for a drive in my poofy Alice in Wonderland dress this Friday. First time leaving the house in petticoats!

Sissy Satin Headscarf Hijab Facescarf

Dm, and get sweaty under my control