Patti has a foot fetish, I’m a suck for sexy cross dresser feet especially in heels, who loves pretty feet ?

Love walking in heels

In this year of Our Lord 1885, I, a gentleman of four-and-sixty summers and considerable corpulence, find myself irrevocably committed to the most elaborate and humiliating semblance of a widow in deepest mourning, nay, a sissy crossdresser, every contour of my person exaggerated into an absurd excess of feminine propriety at the unyielding command of Madame. My unwieldy frame is confined within a voluminous gown of black bombazine, its lustrous silk bodice drawn so severely that my affixed bosom rises and falls in mock matronly dignity. Upon my head sits an immense crape bonnet, enveloped in multitudinous folds of black crepe veiling that descend softly over my countenance and shoulders like the very pall of perpetual bereavement, its diaphanous gauze quivering with each breath and rendering me a figure of spectral, enforced delicacy.
Beneath this sombre raiment, a prodigious crinoline encircles my ample waist, distending the skirt to such extravagant breadth that every halting step discloses the lace-fringed hems of my cambric under-drawers and the delicately trimmed tops of my black lisle stockings, secured by embroidered satin garters. At times madame requires silk hose of the sheerest texture, yet the mortification endures undiminished. My feet, protesting and swollen, are imprisoned within patent leather ankle boots of four inches’ Louis heel, their pointed toes permitting a glimpse of my varnished nails in pitiable vulnerability. Should indolence be suspected, Madame fastens the straps with black satin ribbons, forestalling any attempt at relief. My hands, bearing permanent false nails of gleaming pearl, are gloved in lace mittens, adorned with rings upon every finger, while a jet choker of frilled design encircles my thick neck as a badge of submission. The whole attire is so profoundly girlish, so burdened with widow’s frippery, that it would provoke scandal even among the most devout matrons of Her Majesty’s court.
I descend from our Brougham in the crowded precincts of Covent Garden, With utmost caution I arrange my skirts, the heels resounding sharply upon the cobblestones, and proceed with mincing steps, hips swaying perforce beneath the crinoline’s dominion and the boots’ perilous elevation. Soft laughter ripples along the stallholders. Smiles of polite astonishment. Complimentary remarks follow. “La, madam, what a most becoming habit of mourning!” one declares. “The veil is exceedingly elegant, and those boots quite the mode!” They suppose it a seasonal fancy. I colour deeply beneath the crepe, threading my way through the ordeal with measured tread, aware that I shall return in seven days, and seven again thereafter, clad precisely thus, bereft of any festal pretext merely a creature wholly subject to his lady’s will.
I procure the articles enumerated upon Madame's list, tea of finest quality, spices, and provisions discharge the account, and retire with mincing gait to the carriage, crinoline whispering, veil fluttering like a mourner’s sigh. Madame directs that I convey her thither beforehand, yet she commands me first to enter and obtain her broadsheet and sweetmeats. As I totter across the thoroughfare, heels clacking, a lady seated in an adjacent Hansom calls out: “Those boots are positively ravishing, madam!” I turn, the veil shifting with ethereal grace, and reply in a low, submissive tone, “I am most obliged to you, Madame is pleased to attire me in this manner at all times.” She laughs with genuine delight. “Would that I might prevail upon my own husband to exhibit such commendable obedience!” Having restored Madame to her residence, I repair to the wine merchant’s. The moment I enter, eyes fix upon me chuckles, prolonged gazes. The proprietress cannot forbear a smile at my boots, her glance ascending to my carefully plucked brows, arched with precision. “Heavens preserve us,” she exclaims, “this is no mere passing fancy of costume. You have worn it for a considerable period, have you not?” I venture a faint, veiled smile. “Indeed, madam… it is the garb prescribed for me upon every occasion of shopping. I endeavour, by degrees, to grow reconciled to it.” A youthful clerk conveys the case of port to the carriage. He chuckles softly. “You bear it with uncommon grace, sir.” Madame assures me that habituation shall ensue. “In due course, the sense of mortification will diminish,” she declares with quiet conviction. “You will become thoroughly accustomed to your station as my devoted maidservant.” She contemplates the future with satisfaction: I, attending to the household in full uniform, discharging her every errand, awaiting her return in patient seclusion. Upon her entrance, I must execute a profound curtsey and relieve her of mantle and parasol. At every ingress or egress from a chamber curtsey. All domestic duties devolve upon me, performed amid the perpetual rustle of bombazine and crinoline.

Another cute new dress with my nude heels hope everyone has had a lovley weekend! xx

I'm looking for single transgender girl from USA who is very near me and close to Kentucky in the USA and it's here to find someone to Dating them off of here now and married ME and help me to be a girl from being a man or a man who's having turn into a girl from being a man and has a sex gender change doing to be a girl from being a man and it's here to find someone who would dating them and will be them Love to them off of here now and I am not here for any fake people or catfish only people who are gay people or transgender girl who would dating ME or trans women or lesbians and a man who's had start transition from being a man into a girl and does not looking like a man anymore at all and now it's a girl full Time now and will dating anyone like ME or woman who has peins now and will dating ME now any One who it's insane in dating ME now hit me up on here now or at Google chat Eric Norman skaggs5216@gmail.com and will help me to be a girl from being a man for real and not here here to play any games with me at all now I'm only wanting a girl friend to be My love to me now and married ME and help me to be a girl from being a man and will dress ME up in girls clothes and high heels

Friday night heels x

Patti loves short dresses and heels, I want to have someone to dance with, who would cup my cheeks while slowly dancing ?

So I wasn't going to post these ones, no make-up or anything...but last week I started putting together my first girls outfit, trying to find my style. It's not finished but wanted to see it and see what y'all thought.

How did I do, Girls? Xx
#crossdresser #crossdressing #highheels #skirt #selfie

The rain came down in silver sheets, turning the cobbles into black mirrors that reflected the sodium glow of the single working streetlamp. I leaned against its rusted iron, the cold metal biting through the heavy layers of satin and chiffon like it wanted to remind me I was still flesh under all this funeral drag.
I took a long drag on the cigarette, the cherry flaring briefly under the edge of my veil. The black chiffon draped across my face softened the world into shadow theatre, everything a little unreal, a little safer that way. My lips, painted the color of dried blood, left a faint crescent on the filter. I exhaled smoke that twisted upward to join the mist, two kinds of fog becoming one.
They called me Valentine in the old precinct days, before the badge became a liability and the mirror became an accusation. Now I was just Val to the few who still owed me favors, or the ones who needed someone who didn't flinch at the smell of blood and cheap perfume. Tonight the city smelled of both.
The gown dragged behind me like a widow's promise, long black satin, ankle-skimming, catching what little light there was and throwing it back in wet, liquid gleams. The blouse beneath frothed with rococo frills, glossy and ridiculous against the grime. Mourning attire from a century that knew how to grieve properly. I wore it because it fit the part I was playing: the ghost who refuses to lie down.
Somewhere in the alley behind me, my wardrobe waited in a condemned boarding house door half off its hinges, the only bright thing inside a floor length rainbow satin dress hanging like a forgotten carnival prize. Long sleeves, high ruffled collar, shimmering like oil on water. I kept it there the way some men keep a pistol in a drawer. A reminder that colour still existed, even if I only visited it in the dark.
A low rumble rolled through the street. The red double decker bus, the corpse of the only one left running those nights, it lay half-buried in fallen brick and twisted rebar two blocks down. Its paint had rusted to the color of old blood; one headlamp still flickered like a dying eye. No one bothered to tow it anymore. It was just another corpse in the landscape.
I flicked ash into a puddle. The cigarette hissed and went out. That's when I saw her silhouette at the mouth of the alley, trench coat too big, heels too high for the broken pavement. She moved like someone who knew she was being watched but couldn't afford to run.
She stopped under the cone of lamplight, rain tracing black rivulets down her face. Mascara already surrendered hours ago.
"You're late," I said, voice low, muffled by chiffon.
"You're early," she answered. Her eyes flicked over my outfit, the veil, the frills, the shine that didn't belong here. She didn't laugh. Smart girl. "They said you were... particular about appearances."
"They say a lot of things." I pushed off the lamppost. The gown whispered against itself with every step. "You got the envelope?"
She reached inside her coat, produced a slim packet sealed with red wax. Her hand trembled just enough to notice.
"Inside is everything, names, dates, the garment dress warehouse on Cutler Street. They think they're untouchable because they own half the magistrates and all the shadows." She swallowed. "But they killed my sister. Slowly. For asking too many questions about the satin shipments."
I took the envelope without looking at it. Slipped it inside the satin folds where a heart should be.
"And what do you want from me?" I asked.
"Justice." The word sounded small and antique in her mouth. "Or revenge. Whichever comes first."
I studied her through the veil. Young. Broken in the right places. The kind of client who pays in blood or tears, sometimes both.
"Revenge is expensive," I told her. "And justice... justice is just revenge wearing prettier clothes."
She met my eyes, dark eyeliner smudged into war paint. "Then I'll pay the price."
I nodded once. The rain drummed harder, like applause for bad decisions.
"Go home," I said. "Lock the doors. Burn anything with your name on it. I'll find you when it's done."
She hesitated, then turned and walked back into the dark. Her heels clicked once, twice, then nothing.
I lit another cigarette. The flame briefly illuminated my reflection in the wet lamppost glass: black lips, darker eyes, a widow who never married, a detective who never solved anything clean.
The city exhaled around me, smoke, rain, rust.
I started walking toward Cutler Street.
The rainbow dress in the wardrobe would have to wait another night.
Some colours aren't meant to be worn in the light.

Good Morning......!

#BlackSatinBlouse #StilettoHeels

Heels Off! Do you like my pink pantyhose? Subscribe: https://www.youtube.com/@LeggyVeronica
#crossdresser #crossdressing #femboy #crossdressers #sissy #pantyhose #nylon #heel

I’ve worn this outfit for a 100 mile nighttime drive before now (including the heels)

New heels
New deals
New ride
Was alright...

It's Wednesday, which means it's 'Hump Day'

#Crossdressing #SatinBlouse #StilettoHeels

M'N'Skirts Magazine Fashion review 21

Temu heeled ankle boots, black.

https://share.temu.com/w8mMA6uLTwB

Despite unusual laced design they are extremely comfy for slow walks and rides. Heels around 10cm

Girls on here tell me i look sexy and pretty, some even want to be with me so if i can get a real one for free why in hell would I pay a ******** for a fake one, makes no sense to me, I’ll spend my money on new clothes and heels

20’s queen
#20’s #queen #girl #sexy #legs #feet #skirt #heels #crossdressing #crossdresser #crosplay #cosplayer #mastodon #pixelfed #fediverse #me

School girl
#school #girl #sexy #legs #feet #skirt #heels #crossdressing #crossdresser #crosplay #cosplayer #mastodon #pixelfed #fediverse #me

Naughty nun
#naughty #nun #girl #sexy #legs #feet #skirt #heels #crossdressing #crossdresser #crosplay #cosplayer #mastodon #pixelfed #fediverse #me

I never thought a simple late-night scroll on Temu would change how I saw myself in the mirror.

My hands were shaking a little when I clicked "Buy Now" on that dress. The listing was a chaotic poem of keywords: Black Satin Fairy Vintage Sweet Dress Mesh Long Lace... Hollow Out Puff Sleeve Floral... Off Shoulder Fairy Princess Long Satin Mesh Gothic Lady Ruffle. It was everything at once — sweet, dark, romantic, dramatic — and somehow it felt like it had been waiting for me.

I'm sixty-four. Short. Heavy. The kind of body the world politely looks past. For most of my life I kept the part of me that loved beautiful, flowing things locked away in a mental attic. But the older I get, the less patience I have for hiding.

The package arrived on a grey Tuesday afternoon. I signed for it quickly, heart thumping like a teenager sneaking something forbidden. I carried the brown box upstairs like it contained state secrets, locked the bedroom door, and tore into it.

Inside lay folds of deep black satin that caught the lamplight like liquid night. Delicate mesh panels shimmered with tiny floral embroidery. The puff sleeves were ridiculously romantic — exaggerated, dreamy, almost cartoonishly glamorous. Lace spilled from every edge. The off-shoulder neckline promised to bare collarbones I usually keep hidden under sensible jumpers.

I stripped down, stood in front of the full-length mirror in just my underwear, and stepped into the dress.

The satin whispered against my legs as I pulled it up. It was surprisingly forgiving — stretchy in the right places, structured in others. I wriggled my arms through those massive puff sleeves; they ballooned around my upper arms like dark fairy wings. I tugged the bodice into place, smoothed the ruffled layers over my stomach, and finally reached back to zip it (with some creative contortions and a coat hanger as backup).

Then I looked up.

And I stopped breathing for a second.

The woman — no, the creature — staring back wasn't sixty-four. She wasn't short and soft and ordinary. She was a midnight fairy queen who had wandered out of some gothic storybook and decided to be indulgent today. The black satin hugged and draped in ways that turned every curve into intention. The hollow-out lace panels teased just enough skin to feel dangerous. Those enormous puff sleeves framed me like I belonged on a velvet throne instead of a suburban bedroom carpet.

I turned sideways. The long skirt flared dramatically, the mesh overlay catching light like spiderwebs covered in frost. I twirled — actually twirled — and watched the layers float outward in perfect slow motion, the ruffles whispering secrets to each other.

For once, the mirror wasn't my enemy. It was showing me something true.

I hadn't planned to go anywhere. But suddenly I needed to feel this outside these four walls.

I threw on a long black coat (practicality dies hard), slipped my feet into the only pair of low heels I own that almost match, draped a soft scarf over my wig to hide the fact I hadn't styled it yet, and stepped out into the January dusk.

The cold air hit my bare shoulders like a slap and a caress at the same time. I walked to the end of the street and back — only fifteen minutes — but every step felt like gliding. The satin moved against my thighs. The sleeves swayed. A neighbour's security light caught me as I passed; for a heartbeat I was illuminated, black lace and floral shadows glowing against the night.

No one stopped me. No one shouted. A dog walker nodded politely like I was simply another eccentric on an evening stroll.

When I got home, I locked the door, dropped the coat on the floor, and stood in front of the mirror again — this time under brighter light, no scarf, no hiding.

Here’s the thing about that dress: it doesn’t care that I’m sixty-four, or that I carry extra weight, or that my hands are rough from decades of practical work. It simply drapes itself over me and says, You are allowed to be this glamorous. You are allowed to be this much.

I smiled at my reflection — a real smile, not the careful half-one I usually wear.

Then I whispered to the woman in the mirror, the one who finally looked like she belonged in a fairy tale:

"Thank you for coming out to play, love. We’re keeping the dress."

All dressed up an nowhere to go #sissy #heels #tights

Recently purchased (second hand) 7 inch Pleaser heels, probably one size too small, but with an open toe, I think I can get away with it.
Surprisingly comfortable to walk in

My new black heels just recieved today.

You all know my love of high heels, but recently I have bought some not so high heels, as seen in my recent posts.

Since it's summer here in Oz, I thought a pair of wedge sandals would be a good purchase
They are definitely more comfortable and still relatively high, now I just need some summery dresses

Heels and stockings I adore

Idk why but walking around outside with no heels feels more seductive

Anyone want to go strip down to their bra and panties and throw on some fishnet leggings and heels and go to town together looking like this

Anyone want to go strip down to their bra and panties and throw on some fishnet leggings and heels and go to town together

Still a leg day trying out my new heels and dress

So...a couple of days on from Jessica & NYE and I had the urge once again to feel beautiful .
Out come the wig & heels again and a lovely dress from the fiancées clothes rack and Reanne is here once more . No make-up...because I suck at it (at the moment) and the beard is starting to come back through so there's a bit of a visual ick to these pics...but I think i like em

What do you think, ladies?

My friend says she thinks red is deffo my colour
#reddress #feelbeautiful #dresstoimpress

“A New Year Under the *******’s Banner"
A new year begins, and with it, a journey of loyalty, discipline, and transformation. Those who choose to walk this path understand what it means to serve a higher purpose—and to find belonging through strength, trust, and devotion. #crossdresseruk #Sissy #submissive #chastity #highheels #feetfetish

Thanks to everyone here for all the messages, love and support. Wishing all of you a Happy new year filled with success, more heels , more dresses and a lot more friends

Here is to you
I'm off for the night to celebrate the new year...

Any other cross dressers have any fantisese to share, I want to be submissive and be controlled, yeah get shaven smooth and clean and put in chastity then a corset, fake breast fake nails and makeup wig and some sexy lungrie stocking suspenders high heels and clothes and then getting pimped out to make money, xxx

Ohh my god! Just received my Christmas present for myself my new highheels oh my god I love them!!! 🫠

Sunday heels

Afterparty...

I lost my shame
When lost my skirt
And stepped into
The hall
I thought
I sparkled interest
But pity
Not at all..
They used to see
Me always naked
So I was not surprise
And some of them
Just simply hate
What happens in my mind

Yes I am naked
Tights and jacket
Just lipstick
Nothing else
High heels
I walk
I walk
And nothing...
I lost
My shame...
Confessed

Some re-uploads #legs #pantyhose #nylons #heels #tights #feet

Heels hurt

It is the season to sparkle and shine with gold heels

I love heels even though I can hardly walk in these six inch heels

No more comfy block heels, back to the regular programming of stilletoes

Lilly Party III

So Kate decided
Bravely
To show
Her new heels
But party just
Was over
And Kate
Walked
Home
Still...

Took my wife to Manchester airport overnight. Rain and fog was extreme to say the least around ladybower. All i could think about was doing something I've never done before on the way back . Got to near glossop, almost zero visibility so pulled over and got undressed. Just put these thermal tightson, these low heels that i love and my leather jacket. Got in the car and drove a few miles further and got the urge to pull over and walk for a few minutes. I felt liberated for the first time ever and wasn't cold at all?do thumbe up to these tights haha.

Lilly Party

Kate went
To Lilly Party
Without
Any stress
Kate tried to
Her excitement
New tenner
Heels...
No dress...

White pantyhose and white heels i start to love them more than black...because i have noticed that men looks more.

Trans rights are human rights, and heels are high

With or without heels

I feel so sluty when I wear heels, as Patti walks around she knows that heels makes her ass stick up and I hope I look half as sexy as you girls, I would love to give another girl like me a special Christmas present