Kerry Cross-Dressed, by By Kerry Samson

This story is about a session I made today in a girls’ school uniform. If this freaks you out, I apologise; read on and I’ll explain.

First of all, I am not a transvestite. I have never attempted to pass for, or feel like, a girl; I have never worn full underwear and make-up, and don’t wear a wig; I’m only interested in the feel of the clothes, and how they react to getting wet and messy; it makes women in WAM situations, like the ones I draw and write about, easier to visualise realistically if I’ve experienced the clothing first hand. Some cross-dressers create a female alter ego for when they dress up; while there is some of my personality in most of my characters (Sandra is the closest I have to a female alter ego) I have never attempted to become any of them. I am totally comfortable with my sexuality.

In various chat-rooms I discovered I was not the only male wammer to have tried such experiments; I’ve spoken to a lot of others who have done so, but who are shy in admitting it until they realise there are many others, and that it doesn’t mean they’re gay (I started experimenting as an adolescent because I was starting to harbour fantasies about some of the girls at school, and experiencing their clothing made the fantasies better..). I personally was extremely shy about it myself until I spoke to Tarisha Jay (see Links page) and a few others. Since then I’ve met many more who are in the closet about it, but who are glad of the chance to discuss it once they know they aren’t alone.

It’s from speaking to these people, and from the development of my WAM artwork and stories (there were some ideas I wanted to try before writing or drawing), that I decided to do another cross-dressed session. I hadn’t done so in some time, mainly due to the difficulty of obtaining the clothes. My last cross-dressed session was last summer, whilst visiting my parents, in clothes borrowed from the attic; the Cleaning Spree story on my website is based on that session.

I decided on a school uniform for two reasons; firstly, as you may have noticed from this site, I’ve a particular fondness for wet school uniforms; it was my favourite WAM costume as a teen, and a focus for my c/dressing experiments at the time (see WAM Secrecy). Secondly, it’s an easier outfit to go and buy, as it happens to be a popular fancy dress costume, especially in a student dominated area like where I live.

I spent an afternoon going round charity shops; in each, I sheepishly told the lady behind the counter that I needed a girl’s school uniform for a party. Of course, they thought the sight of this obviously embarrassed man shopping for female attire hilarious and were really keen to help, even going out to the back to see if anything suitable had just come in. At first, I was really embarrassed, but that was OK, it fitted the story. As I went round more shops, my confidence grew, and I started joking about it.

As valentine’s day was approaching, several students were out shopping for crazy clothes for various parties, so my shopping for a girls’ uniform wasn’t out of place. I ended up meeting the same groups of people around the shops, including a group of girls who I’d first met when I was trying some skirts; they were looking for loud, bad taste outfits for their party. The assistant asked why no-one ever dressed pretty for parties anymore. “Hey, I’m dressing pretty,” I said.

From various shops, I finally assembled the following; a calf length grey skirt; a pair of black tights; a navy and light blue striped school tie and a navy jumper, with a logo on the chest. I decided to wear one of my own shirts rather than get a blouse, and was unfortunately unable to find a suitable pair of shoes in my size, but by now I had what I’d come for.

I tried everything on at home; the loose calf length skirt felt great dry, and I was to find it felt even better wet. It was made of knitted acrylic, with a nylon lining that felt great against the legs, and made wearing tights with it totally unnecessary. I matched it with the navy jumper, blue tie and one of my own white shirts. The uniform looked and felt great, and I couldn’t wait to gunge it. I had to hand a few cans of shaving foam and a bottle of green foam bath, but decided it would be so much better to save the outfit for a much bigger, more special wamming.

The next morning I had some things to sort out in town; all the time I was looking forward to the gunging that awaited when I made it home. I stopped by at the supermarket and bought a carton of custard, three cans of cream of tomato soup, and a bottle of lemonade. I headed home to get started.

I changed into the school uniform, opened the cans and took everything into the bathroom. I filled the bottom of the bath with shaving foam and foam bath, leaving it ankle deep in green slime. I sat down in the bath; the gunge wrapped around my ankles and bottom, and I could feel it as a soft, slimy layer beneath my skirt. I took the carton of custard and poured it carefully over my head, letting it run down my face, around my shoulders and feeling it slop down my front into my lap. Some went in my mouth; it tasted sweet and creamy. Ready-made custard has now joined shaving foam on my list of essential WAM substances; this felt great.

I poured the tomato soup over my head and shoulders and stood up to look at myself in the bathroom mirror. Some of the cold soup mixed with the custard and went into my mouth – surprisingly enough they didn’t taste too bad together. I loved the sight in the mirror; there was a cascade of yellow and red from my head and shoulders, running down my jumper, in lines down the skirt and dripping with loud splotts into the green slime in the bath. I spread the custard and soup more evenly around my jumper, took the two-litre bottle of lemonade and sat back down. Now there may be some messy purists wondering about my use of lemonade; you may think it would just wash me off, get me too clean. Read on…

As I opened the bottle, I was slightly disappointed that it didn’t fizz up out of the bottle; maybe I should have shaken it up some more. But when I poured it all over, I loved the fizzy feeling of it hitting my body and clothing, the way it finally soaked the uniform through to the skin, and in particular the way it mixed with the creamy custard, shaving foam and soup to make a reddish brown, frothy, creamy liquid gunge in the bath. This turned out to be the best gunge I’ve made; smooth, slimy, viscous, sweet smelling and looks fantastic on clothing. The skirt was soaking up the gunge brilliantly, with a lot trapped between the skirt and the lining, so a single wring would bring loads of slime frothing back down into the bath.

I played in the mixture for some time; I’ll have to remember that recipe… shaving foam, foam bath, ready made custard, cream of tomato soup and the final, secret ingredient that brought it all together; lemonade. By this time, the bath was very messy, and I was ready to move on. So I turned on the taps and topped up the bath with warm water, ending with a bath of gooey red liquid topped with a light green creamy, foamy residue.

I spent some time trying different things, checking the reaction of the different parts of the uniform to the water, observing the way the skirt billowed as I sat down or slid into the water, and how easily came back up out of the water when I got out. While I had worn skirts in the bath before as a teenager, it was great to remind myself of the way they behave in water, which I can work into future stories and artwork.

Finally I pulled the plug and let the water drain away around by body, feeling it pulling down on my skirt and jumper as it went. I got up, releasing the last of the liquid trapped under my back and shoulders, and pulled round the shower curtain. If you’ve ever tried clothed showers and baths before, you’ll know that they are two very different experiences, with different feelings and effects according to the outfit. In this case, the school uniform felt tremendous under the shower, as I washed the gunge out of my hair, rinsed out my jumper, shirt and tie, completely soaking it with warm water, took the shower from the holder and trained it on my skirt. Having thoroughly rinsed the skirt, I lifted the hem and rinsed around the lining.

When I finally switched the shower off, the warm, saturated uniform felt fantastic; I stood there for some time, savouring the feeling, not wanting to take off the wet clothes and end the experience. In the end I wrung out the excess water from the skirt and just kept the wet clothes on as I cleaned up the bathroom and threw out the empty cans, stepping back into the bath every now and then to wring off more excess water that was dripping to the floor.

The tidy up complete, I went into my room. Hell, I still didn’t want to take the wet clothes off yet; while the water had cooled, my body heat was warming the damp clothes, and with the heater on, I wasn’t feeling too cold, so I decided to keep the wet uniform on for a few hours; I’m still wearing it now as I write this account, plastic bags on the computer chair and on the floor to catch any dripping and a towel to hand to keep my hands dry for typing. And the feeling of the damp clothes, warmed by my body heat and drying whilst wearing them is a brilliant end to a memorable session.