The pleasures of Silk- Part1


Silk does something to me. You know… even as I input this, I get goose pimples. I was introduced to silk by my cousin almost twenty years ago. At that time I was a school going fifteen-year old, living in Delhi.


Summer is a difficult time in Delhi. I loved to spend time with my cousin who had an air-conditioned house. Those days a/c houses were quite a rare thing in Delhi. But then her husband lived and worked in Saudi Arabia and could afford to provide her many luxuries. Despite all the comforts, she looked forward to the day when his contract would be over and he would set up his consultancy in India. They had decided to postpone having children till then.


Since she lived alone, I was not surprised that she took some time to open the door on that summer afternoon. “Come in, Krishna,” she said, as a smile lit up her face on seeing me.


Though she was ten years elder to me, Usha and I were great friends. She was not beautiful, but she was very outgoing and friendly. Of late, her prosperity was making her gain weight.


Her house was richly and tastefully decorated. The living room was partitioned from the bedroom by elegant curtains giving a feel of large space. The settees were covered in expensive patterned material. Furniture was of made out the best possible wood.



I followed her as she made her way into her bedroom. Her king-size bed was covered with pale coloured satin bedspread. There were half a dozen saris and blouses strewn at the far end.


“Look Krishna, I have become fat. None of these blouses fit me anymore. I have to stitch new ones. The old ones will fit only someone like you”. Saying this she started laughing. I blushed at the thought of wearing blouses. When she stopped laughing, I saw mischief in her eyes.


“Krishna! Have you ever dressed up as a girl. I think you will look pretty if you try.”


Her suggestion strangely excited me. I was at an age when I was masturbating many times a day and yet I would have an automatic discharge at night.


I think Usha sensed my excitement. Before I could protest she held my arm and propelled me towards the bathroom. “You go in and wash off all that dust and sweat from your body and then call out to me. I will give you something which you must wear before you come out”. She virtually pushed me into the bathroom and closed the door.



After the heat of the outdoors, a shower was most welcome. I took off all my clothes and stepped under the shower. I soaped myself thoroughly and shampooed my hair as well. While I was wiping myself, I called out to Usha. When she knocked, I opened the door after tying a towel around my waist. Usha handed over a plastic bag while she tried to suppress her giggle.

I closed the door and let the towel drop to the floor, as I examined the contents of the bag. I was puzzled to see two socks filled with cotton wool. When I understood that these were to be my breasts I blushed.


The bag also had a soft and silky beige coloured padded bra and matching padded panties. I hooked the bra against my chest, slid it along to make the hook reach my back, then filled the cup with ‘my breasts’ and put my arms through the straps. Then I pulled up a bit of my chest to form a cleavage and padded the cups into proper shape. As the thin nylon material of the panties slid up my legs, I started getting a hard-on. I managed to capture my unruly cock in the panties and tied the towel around my waist to hide the bulge. But the feel of the silky panties was driving me crazy.


As I came out of the bathroom, I loooked down as I was feeling shy. Usha came near me, lifted my chin and said, ”You are already beginning to look pretty. From now on, I am going to call you Radha." I was amused at her choice of the name for me. It was after all one more shortened version of my full name which is Radhakrishna. The only difference was this version is generally used for a girl.


Having christened me, Usha now took me near the scattered saris and asked me to choose one. Without a moment’s hesitation, I selected a fine translucent silk saree in the colour of the dry onion skin. The saree had brown coloured border with chain stitch work in silk thread. Its rich colour and soft feel simply hypnotized me.


“Good choice”, Usha said as she handed me the matching silk blouse. As I put my arms through the blouse the silk caressed me as it moved along my skin. When I pulled it up and clasped the hooks at the front, it fitted me so perfectly that no one would have believed that it was not stitched for me. “See I told you”, Usha cried out in triumphantly as I stood admiring my silk-covered shapely breasts, proudly projecting out of my young body.

I came out of my reverie when Usha kissed my ears and whispered, “Hey Radha darling, time to wear your petticoat...” She was holding out a light violet coloured petticoat made out of linen. I took it from her turned around, put the petticoat over my head and let my towel slip down as the petticoat glided over my body and covered my legs. I tied it at my waist and admired it as it swished against my enlarged hips and oscillated gently at my ankles.


I turned to look at Usha. She was amazed, ”My god! You have really become a beautiful girl. I mean… it is almost like the story of the ugly duckling. Seeing you like this I wish I was a man. You know you will have men fighting over you”


She then picked up the six-meter long silk sari and started tying it around me. The feel of the soft silk on my exposed stomach was intoxicating. When she was done, she put kajal traditional eyeliner) around my eyes. She made me wear gold bangles on each arm and payals (silver anklet with tiny bells) on my feet. She parted my Beatles style hair in the middle and attached extra hair to plait it in the traditional style. She then made me wear a thick necklace with a pendant.


I was dying to look at myself in the mirror, but she restrained me and fixed gold clip-on earrings on my ears. I wore the leather slip-ons which she had put out for me. Now I walked to the mirror. My movement was set to the melodious music of the payals and soft jingle of the bangles.


A beautiful young girl smiled back at me from the mirror. I become extremely excited and could not control myself. I could feel my panties getting wet and sticky. I put my hands on my mound and pressed in vain.

Usha realised what had happened. She came up, put her hand on my shoulder and said in a kind tone, "It is ok darling. Just lie down and relax for a while." I did just that. When I had calmed down, Usha gave me a fresh pair of panties and a pink nightdress. I took off my saree, blouse and petticoat and walked barefoot to the bathroom in my crusty panties and bra.


As I moved my bangles and payals again jingled to my movement.

I took off and washed the panties that I was wearing. Then I washed my crotch and dried it. Now I wore the fresh panties and slid the sheer nightdress over my body. I looked into the mirror and realised that the my undergarments were clearly visible through the soft translucent material. God forbid if any man saw me like this.


I was aware that I was looking sexy as I came out of the bathroom and I posed seductively near the window as Usha captured my beauty with her new SLR camera. The rest of the day I washed, cooked and cleaned for Usha and that gave her a chance to rest and relax.

For the next six months, until she migrated to Canada with her husband, Usha helped me to realise the girl within me. Though I tried various dresses in different materials, my favourites were silks. I tried silks from all corners of India and ran through Usha’ s entire collection.


For almost four years after this I could not experience the feminity which her fine clothes had given me. I did a lot of window-shopping in textile shops and imagined I was the mannequin behind the glass. Sometimes I felt the dresses pretending to be a buyer. But all this did not really satisfy me.


It was during Asiad games in Delhi that another cousin of mine came over. She worked for the Indian Railways in south India and was a national Volleyball player.


Would you believe it? She was 6 feet 3 inches tall and weighed almost 180 lbs. Though she was in her at home while playing the game, people stared at her when she went out on the road. Most children would openly giggle as she went past. This bothered her a lot.


One night when we were having dinner at the Asiad 'village'. Like all the first time visitors to Delhi, my cousin Ramani expressed a desire to visit the Taj at Agra. But the thought of walking on the streets of Agra bothered her. Looking at her muscular build and her short hair I had an idea. I smiled and said, "Why don't simply disguise yourself as a man and go to Agra." She raised her eyebrows at my statement, thought for a while and said, "I think it can be done. But I will need someone to give me company and also speak in Hindi to the locals."


When I suggested that I could accompany her she thought for a while and said, "But you will yourself start laughing when you see me as a man....unless of course..." She left the sentence hanging and looked at me. I blushed and she could sense my excitement. She tapped me on my cheeks and said, "Well then that is settled. We leave day after tomorrow." I was so thrilled at the thought of dressing up once again that I just could not speak.


At that time I was studying for Masters programme in Computer Applications and lived alone in Usha's house. My father had retired and my parents had left Delhi. The day after we decided to go to Agra was hectic for me. I left my institute early, having made a convincing excuses for absenting myself over the next three days. Ramani (curiously, one of those uni-sex south Indian names) had given me some spending money. So before retuning home that day, I picked up a few essentials like hair-remover, tweezers, orange-peelface-mask, a vial of metallic-pink nail polish, a bottle of liquid make-up, an eyeliner, a few shades of lipstick and a wig of silky black hair which was about two feet long. I also bought some costume jewlry consisting of a red-stone necklace, bracelets and danglers. I did not need to buy any dresses.


That was because I had suddenly turned lucky in the dress department. Just two days ago, Usha had sent me the keys to her wardrobe because in Canada, she practically lived in her jeans and no longer needed the clothes she had left behind in India. She had sent me a note saying I could use them or get rid of them if I had grown fat in the meanwhile.


Along with the keys, Usha had sent me a skin coloured body-suit, which looked like a one-piece swim-suit. Actually it was more than that. It was stretchable and padded and once worn over my body, it gave me a torso of sexy proportions. On reaching home I took off my clothes quickly and wore the suit. As the suit hugged my body I felt great. Not only did my breasts feel firm and soft but now I also had a nice mound covered with fine curly hair. I remembered to wear a sheath so that my discharges would not spoil my clothes.


Despite the beautiful body which I now had, I still had to remove hair from my arms and legs. The greater part of the evening was spent on that. I used the tweezers to shape my brows. From the day Usha discovered me, I had taken care to keep my face smooth. After cleaning my limbs, I steamed my face and spent some time removing the blackheads. Then I covered my face with the sticky face mask. While the mask dried, I filed my nails and applied nail polish. In about twenty minutes the mask had dried and I could feel my skin being pulled taut. As I took off the mask, I admired the healthy glow on my smooth face.


All this had taken hours and my room had become a mess. With nightfall the air had become cold. But the suit kept me warm as I tidied up the room. I pulled on a sweater and wore a long floral skirt.

On a whim I wore my payals and slipped on my collection of toe rings. I did the cleaning job creating as much sound as possible from the payals! I tried on my wig and left in on while I worked. The long hair caressed my back. Once in a while, I stopped work to look at myself in the mirror. At that time, I loved to place my hand on my mound and squeeze....


Having cleaned up the room I spread a pink satin sheet on my bed, changed the pillow covers and placed a large teddy bear next to my pillow. I was pleased with myself as I moved to the kitchen to make some soup and sandwitch. While I was busy putting together a meal, the door bell rang. I rushed to the door and peeped through the hole and sure enough it was Ramani.


"My my" Ramani exclaimed as she came into the room. She was wearing deep blue tracksuit, which had a pair of white double stripes running along its length. Her feet were covered with sports shoes. She was rubbing her hands to generate heat while she admired me.


"You know you are beautiful..What should I call you now?" she smiled.

"Call me Radha." I said shyly.


"Radha come near me." As I went closer she hugged me and said, "Oh Radha! I never thought you would look so beautiful. I came prepared to tell you that our idea is silly and we should cancel our tickets and call off the whole thing."


"...And now?" I asked in a low but mischievous voice.


"...Now I would give away all my gold medals to be with my Radha." I felt delirious as I heard Ramani's words. I could feel her strong muscular arms crushing me with love. I rested my head on Ramani's chest. Ramani was soon kissing me and I was standing on my toes to let him do just that.

I feel too shy to describe the rest of the evening to you. Ramani had just come to tell me that we should cancel the tickets which had been booked for the Taj Express the next morning. Now he stayed on to make love to me. See! I managed to say it.


It was almost midnight when I went to bed, cuddling my teddy bear and looking forward to a wonderful holiday at Agra.


P. S. I will tell you about the holiday in another story