A Sissy (S)exercise Fantasy

I quickly grabbed a couple pair of white ankle socks with tiny little pink pompoms on the back, and then headed directly for the shoes. As I sat there trying on women's running shoes, gleefully ignoring the disapproving looks of the blue-smocked old bag who kept haunting the aisle, I found a renewed sense of purpose washing over me.

The reason I hadn't been able to motivate myself to exercise, I realized, was that I really didn't care how I looked as a man. In fact, I wanted nothing more than to forget that image, and to never see myself like that again. That was hardly a revelation to me, but realizing how desperately I wanted to look good as a woman, or even as a sissy, I began to understand the strange dichotomy. Even though the man who trudged into work every day shared the same body as the sissy who pranced around the house every night, they really were two different people. I couldn't get motivated to make him look any better, but I was super motivated to make her look good.

There was a pair of pink canvas sneakers that I absolutely, but they offered no support for running, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise. In the end, I settled on a pair of plain white leather running shoes, but bought myself a pair of bright pink laces to put in them.

On my way to the checkout I picked up a bag of pink and purple scrunchies for my hair, along with some baby-powder scented antiperspirant. I already had a few padded panty girdles at home, to provide some definition while flattening out my sissy bulge, along with some padded sports bras that would fill out the Lycra shirt nicely. The watch I wore everyday was a thin, purple girls sports watch anyway, so my workout outfit was complete.

*******

Sure enough, when the alarm went off the next morning, I was up and out of bed in a heartbeat. I was excited about exercising again, and determined to start developing the kind of sissy curves I would need to land myself a real man -- preferably one who would take me away from it all, trading my tie for a studded leather collar, but I'd just as happily settle for one who would fuck me silly and leave me leaking cum.