Übersetze folgenden Text in gut leserliches deutsch: ""Many of us manage to maintain the “firewall” between our make-believe vanilla existences and our visceral sissy selves. 


But many of us cannot. 


The urge to dress up in our stockings and girlie things and drown ourselves in an ocean of sissy effeminacy is not a constant. 


Like a drug of addiction, it becomes ever more irresistible, demanding bigger and longer “hits” all the time. 


It begins to overtake our rational, cognitive faculties - to a point where we take ever greater risks of exposure, leading to adverse employment consequences, broken marriages and relationships and social ostracisation, humiliation and ridicule. 


Somehow, the those fears playing through our heads, at a time when we overcome with intense arousal, dressed in our stockings and  girlie things, drowning in effeminacy and sissy ecstasy, become fetishised through constant association.


We already take risks wearing stockings or pantyhose under our male clothes, but we take those risks even further, almost through a kind of “death wish” of being caught or exposed. 


The thought of it gives us an intense rush. 


On a cognitive level, it is what we fear the most. 


Viscerally we want it - need it - really badly. 


We start to do things like  not wearing socks, leaving our stockinged ankles exposed; wearing a bra, with the risk of the bra outline being visible through our male outer clothes. 


We actually try to draw out our sissy urges as long as we can - sometimes to a constant state, where we are externally performing a charade as “men”, but drawing in effeminacy underneath. 


The longer we remain dressed in our stockings and womens underwear, the longer and more  intensely we immerse ourselves in effeminacy and emasculation, the more powerful our addiction becomes as any remnant nations of ourselves as men are eroded and replaced with sissy thoughts, feelings, sensations and urges. 


To stop ourselves from masturbating and temporarily shutting down our sissy urges, most of us will subject ourselves to a self-imposed regime of chastity.


However, sissy’s being essentially weak, are not very good at abstention.


Many of us then turn to locked chastity, where we will lock ourselves in locked chastity device to keep ourselves constantly aroused and to avoid the urge to masturbate and climax. 


That’s a fun short-term fetish for awhile, but because we hold the keys ourselves, we eventually surrender to our urges and release and relieve ourselves. 


However, the rush of being so intensely aroused and not having any control over it causes many of us to seek other solutions where we surrender control over our chastity - this may be a professional key holder or other person with whom we seek a discrete arrangement or various other devices such as time locks and the like. 


The longer we squirm in our stockings and girlie underwear, and womens outerwear when we have the opportunity, with our redundant appendages locked into impotent chastity, the more we will take risks, ready to possibly throw away marriages, relationships, friendships and even our careers. 


The humiliation that accompanies this becomes a powerful fantasy. 


Our sissy urges and fantasies overwhelm our rational, cognitive faculties and become all that matters. 


When we’ve been locked in chastity for some time and our sissy fluids have welled up to a lint where they begin to drool through our chastity aches and chastity belts, into our panties and pantyhose , we reach a stage, psychologically and viscerally where become malleable sissy mush .


We are then not just prepared, but driven, to surrender ourselves to the most previously unimaginable shame and humiliation, irrespective of what it may mean for things we previously valued in our vanilla lives. 


The humiliation is not just something we accept as a kind of “cost” for the sissy ecstasy we wallow in. It actually become an essential part of the rush, that amplifies that ecstasy to unprecedented levels. 


If we haven’t already, we start displaying our selves in public, at first in cities, our parts of town where we are least likely to be recognised, often in gay bars, or drag shows were we feel there might be some kind of “acceptance” or “tolerance”.


Eventually, however, the humiliation hit isn’t big enough. 


We start to venture out to vanilla venues where we are more of a curiosity than in a gay bar or drag show. 


Exposed, before “normal” people - women we might previously have tried to impress, guys such as those we might previously have hung out with - we soak up the stares and whispers, the double takes, the giggles, the sneers and even outright derision. 


Our faces burn in a white heat of shame, but inside our panties and pantyhose, we are drooling furiously through our locked  chastity cages, as we gently brush our pantyhose or stocking sheathed knees and thighs together under our skirts,savouring the soft friction, as if to pinch ourselves that we’re really here in womens clothes, obvious sissies, being stared at, whispered about. 
