I have to say that, at least to me, the most powerfully feminine garment I've ever had the (delightfully wicked) pleasure to wear is a garter belt and stockings. I can slip on the prettiest, laciest bra, or a soft satin thong, but nothing compares to sliding a pair of stockings up freshly shaven legs and buckling them to the wisp of lace that circles my waist.
On work days, I love to dress up like a man. To put on my disguise, my power suit, tie, freshly shined shoes, and walk out into the world. And underneath, my secret. With each step throughout the day, I feel the tug of the straps holding up my stockings. Each exquisite tug a reminder of what I really am. Reminding me that I can pretend to be a man, but in the end I'm a sissy girl who likes to wear pretty things. That feeling, that tug of the strap, binds me to femininity and submission.