Free Your Mind 1.5


The wife found out that her husband is a hidden cross-dresser. Very hard for her, she accepts this. Will she adapt to the situation?

Five days had passed since I found my husband, Aslan, wearing my clothes. After a hard fight with myself, I accepted the impossible. I both him some woman clothes and forced him to cross-dress. Then, two days passed without any incident. He remained a man in all aspects. We never talked about this. I am starting to accept things as they are. After all, I just don't know other woman in this town to be as happy as I am. Just think that he never shouted at me and never came home drunk. If cross-dressing is his only problem, then I think I can live with this.

He brought me flowers and a new pair of plastic sandals. How many times he made me such pleasant surprises? This happens almost every week. A week ago, he brought me a wooden bracelet and two packs of cigarettes. Tomorrow we have our free day. After five days of work, we have a free day. Usually, when this happens, we go to the forest and relax, enjoying the beauty of nature.

As I return from work, I see something that is really horrible for most wives. Junit, a former classmate, is trying to make her husband, Amsid, to go home. Amsid is drunk on the street, full with mud. Certainly he felt into the many holes that are along the roads. Poor Junit! I know her very well. She comes from a poor family, with an alcoholic father and a depraved mother. Her only chance to get out of that family was to get married. She felt from purgatory to hell. Amsid beats her. He drinks all the money in the house. She has no home, no other place to go. Her life is tighten to this infidel.

"Junit, what the fuck"? I say. "Drunk again"?

"Abida", she says, "he did not come home last night. I found him in a pit".

"Ok", I say. "Let's get this infidel out of here!"

We both fight to push or carry Amsid home. No way, he refuses. Luckily, we are close to the bazaar. I go there and ask Ahmed, a close friend, to borrow me a wheelbarrow. With the help of a man passing by, we put Amsid in and start pulling him all the way home.

"You, bitch!" he shouts to Junit. "I will drink your blood and piss on your liver!"

"Just shut up, infidel!" I say, not interested.

I give Junit a cigarette, as I light one for me.

"He doesn't let me smoke", she whispers.

"Then, I insist", I say, forcing her.

"Give me a cigarette!" mumbles Amsid from the wheelbarrow. "I'll put the dogs on you! Help! Help! Call the militia! They're taking me to the slaughter house!"

I just ignore this rotten piece of meat that dares to be called a husband. I just look at Junit. She is still gorgeous, even if she is heading to 40 years old. Her body is nearly perfect. She does not deserve such an idiot. I look at her feet, her toenails are not painted, her sandals are old and repaired with wires. Her hands host no bracelets. Aslan is such a lovely man compared to this... garbage that we carry. I just look at my pantyhosed toes encased in new sandals and at my bracelets.

We reach the destination and drop Amsid in the house, just behind the door. He mumbles:

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you all!"

"Drop dead, asshole!" I answer, putting my sandal on his stomach.

"Abida, no!" says Junit.

This is why many women remain with such animals that dare to call themselves husbands. Because of love. This remembers me of how lucky I am. Well, we leave him near the door. We take off our sandals. Junit washes her feet with water from a bucket, taking off the mud from the road. I cannot do this with pantyhose on. We go to the kitchen and light another cigarette. She serves me with milk and cookies and we talk. Then, at a moment, I decide to tell her about Aslan. First, I ask her to keep this a secret, then I tell her that I found him wearing my clothes.

"What?" she says, with her eyes wide opened.

"I don't know, he has a strange addiction", I say.

"Abida, what animal you've got as a husband? Oh mine! Is he gay? Get rid of him while you still can! People will kill you both when they find out".

"Junit, he is not gay at all. Do you think it is better to live with an alcoholic?" I ask, surprised of her words.

"Many people drink", she says, "but the life with an alcoholic is a nightmare. Perhaps you are right. But if anyone finds out about this, he will get killed".

After I stay a little more, I leave Junit. Amsid sleeps, drunk, at the door. As I leave them, I see someone I know. It is a woman, Aisha, with her little daughter, Cinderella. She lives alone. Cinderella is the result of a sexual abuse. Aisha was raped by Mupus, a guy who was crazy in love with her. Aisha never completely recovered completely. She ended-up as a sfenist. Her parents forced her to get married with Mupus. She refused and ran away in a mountain village. Later, Mupus raped another woman and was killed in revenge by her husband.

Why do women have to suffer like this?

I return to the bazaar, to buy some rice and potatoes. But, I see something. I see some ripped woman jeans, that would fit me perfectly. It would be nice to wear them. Aslan loves to pierce his fingers through the holes and touch my pantyhosed feet. Then, I see another pair, a bit larger, that would fit him perfectly. Still, something inside me tells me to stop, but I buy it. Why not? Is it better to have a violent alcoholic husband or one with a feminine side? I also buy two pairs of white, demi-opaque pantyhose. This should be a nice surprise for him tomorrow, when we go to the forest.


The next day, after we have breakfast, we head for the woods. We have our special place, at a few km from town. It is the first place where we came, it is where we had our first kiss and we first talked continuously for an hour. It is a small concrete platform surrounded by dense vegetation. It was Aslan's secret place, where he used to go when he had problems. Now, it is ours. We take a blanket, a glass of water and some food.

"I have a small surprise for you", says Aslan, after we put the blanket down and we sit. "Close your eyes and wait".

I do as he says. When I open my eyes, I see ice cream. I kiss him, then I say:

"I also have surprise for you".

"Should I close my eyes?"


I unpack the jeans and the pantyhose I secretly brought here.

"Abida, oh no!" he says, half surprised and half scared to see this.

"Why did you do this?" he asks.

"I did it for you", I answer. "I thought you will like it".

"Yes, I do, but..."

"But what?"

"You spent money on them", he tries to find an excuse. "You shouldn't".

"And you spent money on ice cream too", I answer with a smile.

"Yes, but you shouldn't, Abida".

"You know, it is polite not to refuse and to take what someone gives to you".

"So, you want me to wear them?"

"Right now", I say.

By saying this, I start to undress, then to change to these new clothes. He hesitates a little, then starts to do the same. In a few minutes, we are completely changed and we enjoy our ice creams.

Just as I expected, he starts to touch my feet, to put his fingers in the holes of my trousers, to feel the smooth pantyhose texture. In one large hole he can fit his entire hand. I like to be caressed like this. what is different, is that he does this with more passion then before.

I look at his body. Now, he clearly looks like a man, at least from belly to top. From belly to toes, he looks more like a woman. Through the gaps in his trousers, I see the smooth, white texture of pantyhose, but I also see hair on his feet. Next time, I have to do something about this. But still, because the feet are not completely exposed and these pantyhose are more opaque, the appearance is different. His feet sure look more girly.

"Aslan, please tell me, where do you got this strange addiction?" I say, looking deep into his eyes.

"I don't know if I can give you an exact answer".

"When did you first wear women clothes?"

He stops, thinking, while I light a cigarette, placing my head on his shoulder.

"I think I was 15 or something like that. No, I was 17 or 18. I am not sure. But long before that, I loved to see women clothes, to watch women. I was not attracted by them, nor I tried to seduce a girl. I was just watching their clothes. Well, it all started much earlier. I was much younger, in the 5th class I think or a bit younger. That was the first time I had a sexual desire, even if I could not understand at that age what happened. There was a girl in school, chewing gum and blowing bubbles. I think it was the first time I was in love, only that I did not know what love is. She used to blow bubbles and I watched amazed her".

"Bubbles?" I ask, not understanding what is the connection.

"Instead, I considered that I wanted chewing gum. So, the next day I both chewing gum for myself. It gave me a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment. At least that is what I considered at that time. Then, I don't know exactly. I think I was in the 7th grade, so probably 15 years old. I've seen in the bazaar a woman that had too much lipstick on her lips, chewing gum. I also considered that I wanted a lipstick, just as previously I considered I wanted chewing gum. So, this is what happened. I stolen my mother's lipstick and behind close doors I colored my lips. This deviation started when I was a teen, because in school I was a book grinder and no girl was attracted to me".

"I know, you told me once you had almost no girls in your life".

"As you had almost no guys in yours", he says.

"True", I add. "But, when did you wear women clothes for the first time? And what motivated you to do such a thing?"

It was in high school, the first year", says Aslan. "Well, boys liked to watch girls. One day, I was with two guys, watching lovers in secret, how they kiss. They were much older then us. We knew that they will sit on a bench, so, one of us tried to make them an unpleasant surprise and dropped some glue on the bench. The woman was unlucky to sit on the glue. I remember, she had short blue dress and skin-colored pantyhose. She ripped her pantyhose there. I don't know why, but when I seen her pantyhose remaining glued to the bench, just like bubblegum remains on your face, it turned me on like never did before. She was probably angry, but all I remember is her ripped pantyhose, with a big hole on her thigh and a series of run-offs that were making their way down to her ankle. Guys were hardly hiding their laugh, but I was watching amazed".

"And from this, what happened?" I ask, listening carefully and trying to understand how things work in his mind.

"Not immediately", he continues, because there was no way I could do that. First, as high school began, I had an attraction to chewing gum. I remember that a girl left her chewing gum under her desk. After classes, when nobody was in the class, I took it and chewed it. I was also fascinated by women lingerie, but I always thought this is too much and I should avoid thinking about it. bubblegum was innocent. And then, something happened".

"What?" I ask, lighting another cigarette.

"I found a pair of pantyhose in the forest", he says. "If it were underpants or a bra, I would not touch them, as I thought it was too much. But pantyhose, this is not something so intimate. So, I took them to study. I was amazed how they fit into a small box, then cover the feet completely. Just like a bubble of gum, they are elastic. I remember up to this day, they were ripped and dirty. Guess I was in the first class at high school. At that time, I was not so excited to wear them, because they were dirty".

"So, that's when it started", I say as a conclusion.

"I worn them for a while, secretly, while sleeping. I tried to wear my mother's twice, but no longer. The second time I did, she did not find hers and started to search the whole house. Finally, I placed them in the basket with dirty clothes, hoping that she will have no idea I took them".

"Only pantyhose or was it something else?"

"Yes, a blouse, an elastic blouse that belongs to my mother. I worn it for a night".

"I see".

"Then I found again pantyhose in a ditch and I worn those for a while. Then, I found another pair, but it was too ripped. Finally, I found leggings and I think my mother found them, because I never found them again and that day she was angry. But, she never said a word about. Most often, I used make-up when my parents were not home for a long period of time. It took me a lot of time and courage to go and buy myself for the first time a pair of pantyhose. That happened after I found women sandals in a pile of garbage. It took me a week to have the courage to enter a shop... and I got some very tight, squeezing tight".

"Wrong number", I say.


I look at his feet, thinking about. What is so strange about him? Is it something that wrong to justify a divorce? By far, no. I remember from my childhood and from when I was a teen. Once, I both men socks from the bazaar. When I realized what they are, I felt so excited, it is like I became more masculine only by wearing those.

Another time, I made a bet with a boy at school. He was playing football. I said: "I can play better then you". He answered: "I bet everyone will laugh at you if you play". My answer was "Really?" He answered: "If you win, I take my shoes off". And we changed places. He watched and I played with other guys. "Your shoes or my shoes", I said. Well, everyone agreed that I played better then he did. So, I won. I took his shoes and he left with bare feet. I felt myself proud only to wear men shoes... I was a man.

So, again, is there any difference? Only that Aslan got too far and now there is no way back for him. For me, things ended in a bad way. When my parents found out, they beaten me and forced me to bring the shoes back.

And about his addiction with my feet, I think it is only an exaggeration, not a disease. The thing I did not know, is that men have such fetishes. When I was a teen, I was fascinated about men with muscles and of men smoking cigars. At that time, there was still a functional cinema in town. I remember when they placed posters about an action movie, with main character a soldier. He was so powerful and smoking a cigar... I stolen a poster and kept it hidden for weeks. Later, I placed in my room. I must confess that I even masturbated thinking about that soldier. I was in love with him.

Well, what is so different in his story then in my story? I also had almost nobody in my life until late, until I found him. All guys were only looking for sex and... my body is not for sale.

We stay in the wild for a few hours, endless talking. Then, we start kissing. Oh mine! It might be a shame to say, but when we decided to be together, we both did not know exactly how to kiss. We continue to kiss and hug each other. With his face covered with make-up, I felt repulsion against him. But now, only with his feet transformed and his head resembling a man, I don't feel anything to stop me. So, we can make love without a problem.


Later, we return from the forest, after he changes back to his normal clothes. As we return to the town, a woman that is looking for dried branches on the ground, says to us:

"Two pigeons return, beak in beak. May love make you both happy!"

We walk our way back home. People follow their everyday lives. Many people walk, others ride bikes, horse carriages and wrecked cars. The statue of Lenin is still there, above that ancient king's tomb. Two men scream one at each other: "I'll kill you!" Children play on the street, farmers carry their goods.

This is the town at the End Of The World. A place many would consider chaos, but we consider home. It is a place where so different people live together. Everyone is very friendly here... but in the same time, everyone can kill you.


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