I think my earliest “erotic” memory was from about grade four or five.  I say “erotic” in quotations because I was so dim in such matters that I didn’t reflect that it had been an Proto-erotic memory for decades.  Anyway, in this memory some of the girls in my Public School learned how to gang up on boys that they liked, and did a dance for their selected victim.  The victim became glassy-eyed, weak, suggestible, sleepy and ultimately unconscious.  When he awoke, the victim would forever be unable to resist obeying commands from those girls.  Feeling myself helpless, submissive, entranced by girls was the shape of my earliest erotic feelings.

It would have been just a few years later that I discovered that “other” use for my cock.  I was at home, alone on the couch, ostensibly recovering from a flu.  I was watching Let’s Make a Deal on TV, and distinctly remember an odd fascination for how Carol Merrill’s legs looked in her 1970’s-era skimpy costume.  A very odd sensation indeed.  As she moved on screen, I felt like I couldn’t look away.  The feeling that the arousal made me unable to resist staring made me even more excited:  my first ejaculation, mildly hypnotized.

Only a year or two later, as best I can figure, I found myself in the bottom of my mother’s walk-in closet, with my nose pressed to certain items of fabric, and my fingers caressing others.  I couldn’t spell “sexuality,” and would have sworn that the experience I was having had “nothing to do with girls.”  Within weeks I had first tried on a pair of pantyhose; the erotic ‘zing’ of that first experience resonates with me to this day. OMFG! I have never been fully able to stop crossdressing since that day.  Time and opportunity were scarce for years, and my social inhibitions where high.  I had my sights set on being a “normal” guy. 

So, reflecting now upon the raw material of Me-Now, I ask this one question, “Was I always I sissy faggot?”