My wife Susie and I have been living in Spain for over 20 years, the last 6 in Ibiza. I’ve always been slim and interested in cross-dressing with Susie’s complete approval and encouragement, but it came as a surprise when one day while trimming my hair, she suggested perming, highlighting and styling it in a more feminine way.

She was so pleased with the result that she carried on by making me up, and then insisted that to see the results properly I should dress as a girl. She helped me into a bra, panty girdle, tights and high heels, plus a blouse and skirt to complete the transformation. She was thrilled with my appearance and confessed she’d really enjoyed dressing me up.

Silicone Breasts

Since that day, most of the time I’ve dressed as a woman and besides buying my underwear, dresses, blouses and skirts, Susie also obtained a pair of silicone breasts. Then, after about six months of wearing them she suggested I try growing my own.

I was rather dubious about the idea as I not only doubted whether it was possible, but didn’t want to end up as a sort of freak. However, I finally agreed and Susie obtained a supply of feminine hormone tablets from the chemist, easily obtainable here in Spain.

That was over 5 years ago and with the tablets plus regular massage, I now have – much to Susie’s delight – fully developed 38C breasts. Apart from slight sickness, dizziness and tiredness early on, I suffered no ill effects and I found the pills feminised me in many other ways. All my body hair, apart from pubic which grew very bushy, vanished. My skin became much softer and my body shape changed considerably – I now have a 28″ waist and 38″ hips.

What I didn’t know at the time was that Susie had consulted her doctor / gynaecologist to make sure all would be okay. She told Susie that in most cases the treatment worked, and that once changes started taking place she’d be happy to get involved.

Once my breasts started developing she was extremely helpful and enthusiastic, examining me regularly, advising Susie on diet and massage and keeping a photographic record for herself of my development. Actually, Susie and her doctor were surprised at the final size of my breasts, as apparently hormone-induced breasts don’t usually grow so large.

Susie also enlisted the help of the local lingerie shop, who couldn’t have been more helpful in fitting me into bras, girdles and corselettes, which went a long way towards giving me a good figure.

It’s interesting that the average Spaniard has a very relaxed attitude towards transvestism and sex changes, very different to the British. Everyone who knew what was happening from friends to shop assistants were, and are, always helpful, curious and offering advise. For instance, the owner’s wife of our local supermarket always wanted to see my developing breasts, and with cries of delight, would call over the other girls to have a look.

Developed

Soon after my breasts and figure had fully developed, the doctor and Susie suggested that I have the operation to remove my penis and what remained of my masculinity.

A few weeks later it was carried out and proved a complete success, the skin from my penis being used to create an artificial but perfect vagina. Since then I’ve had a couple of minor operations to tidy things up, create a fleshy vulva and generally give the external appearance of a normal female.

Something which came as a surprise was the change in my mental attitude. I found myself becoming very proud of my breasts and figure, enjoying showing them off in public in revealing clothes and pretty lingerie. I’ve also become much more interested in my appearance and now happily spend hours trying on clothes in shops without the least embarrassment at being semi-naked in front of other women. All these things, Susie assures me, are quite normal.

The other surprise was the sheer weight of my breasts, something which hadn’t occurred to me before. The doctor tells me that they weigh approximately 500 grams each and I can now appreciate the benefits of a well fitting bra!

Relationship

The relationship between Susie and I has improved considerably since my sex change. Neither of us was very active sexually before, and Susie had told me she’d actually had a couple of lesbian affairs before we married. Now we enjoy a lesbian relationship to our mutual satisfaction.

Finally, I certainly never imagined I would feel so relaxed and confident as a woman, and find it extremely hard to describe the feeling of contentment and pleasure in wearing well-fitting and attractive clothes, and generally enjoying my changed status.

After two months of this, I had enough, but I didn’t have the guts to walk out or say anything to my colleagues.

Things came to a head when we had to do the financial forecasts for the departments, in at Six each day, typing figures until Nine in the evening. No conversation, No Breaks, just solid concentration. At least I wasn’t bored.

But, a few weeks later as the reports were signed off, a few errors were noticed, just two: A decimal point was missed off a figure and so the report was several pounds off, I was blamed and my life was made more hell.

With no work to do I would sit at my desk for hours, watching as every second ticked by. The pain of watching 1pm turn into 5pm was agony.

My hours got worse and after a few weeks I had to make up the time by staying late on my own.

Now, this wasn’t such a bad thing, as I had a fax machine next to my desk.

Why is this an advantage?

Well, in the company I worked for, fax machines are not barred from any outside lines, and I had access to all the 0891 and 0898 numbers.

Knowing myself very well, I knew the thought of dressing in feminine attire was a great turn on, and so I would call all the TV lines I could think of. I would draw the blind and let my cock out, and wank off like crazy.

But was the only advantage to the job, and after a while it got kinda dull.

But things were conspiring against me..

One day I was driven to a different part of the country to do some legal work. Basically it was photocopying lots of legal documents and stamping each corner with a number. Dull was not the word. To liven things up a bit, I started writing the numbers on in different coloured pens and in different ways. A backwards 27, an upside down 128, even a misspelt 1076.

This did not go down well, the court case was tomorrow and the papers were the only copies. I was driven back, told to empty my desk and was promptly escorted out the building.

To be honest I wasn’t that bothered, to have lots more free time was great. So, I wouldn’t have any money. But at least I could fall back on the dole for a bit.

A few weeks later, on what would have been payday, I walked into town and checked my Balance, 750 pounds!

It transpired that my old Boss had felt sorry for me and arranged for me to have two Months Pay because of Christmas. I sent her a thank you card, and decided to blow it.

THAT MONDAY

I had wanted to get a new Television for a long time, the one I had was getting on in years and didn’t have a good picture. My friend was able to modify my Megadrive so that I could play games full screen and a lot faster only problem was, I needed a Scart socket on the back for it to work.

So, Armed with lots of cash I wondered into town.

I found the television I was after and after some discussion, arranged to pick it up later that afternoon. I paid cash and was about to walk out when the assistant handed me two tokens.

“It’s a special offer” he said “Spend 100 pounds and get 20 pounds cash back”

My brain raced, what did I need that was worth 60 pounds… Nothing. Time to go mad!!

Wondering around, trying to spend this money, I found myself in the lingerie department.

I suffered a sort of obsessive/compulsion and knew that, amongst the soft sensual materials there was something I would like. With 60 quid I could get something and feel no guilt at purchasing it.

I made myself a promise. If I could do this, I could do anything. I had declared a personal challenge.

So, I browsed through the feminine finery with the intention of buying something for myself, my first item of lingerie.

After an age of choice, I found my heaven.

A Basque!

That wonderful item of corsetry, Nothing else would do. None of the silks or satins would fulfil me as much as that wonderful silk creation.

As I choose my Basque, I found the one of my fantasies, the one, which I had been dreaming of. Black and Red, with a short underskirt, four suspenders and a lovely pair of silky panties to match. I pulled the hangar out and promptly paid for it.

This was the moment of truth. Walking to the till with my purchases in my hand.

I played the embarrassed boyfriend.

The assistant, a kindly faced old lady didn’t bat an eyelid, she simply commented that it was “Very pretty” and put it in a bag, which promptly went into my rucksack.

With a smile I paid for it with and asked the assistant if I could return it

“Of course” She said, “Simply give her the receipt!”

Her… I liked that. If only she knew what I was up to!

As I walked to collect my television, my cock getting huge with anticipation, I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten the most important thing… Stockings!

How could I have been so silly to forget such an important item?

With my newfound bravery I did what I had thought impossible earlier. I walked into the lingerie shop on the main street and asked the assistant for some “Black Seamed Stockings” after and agonising browse through the finery, she finally pulled out a pair.

They were lovely. It took all my will power not to stare at them.

“Thank you” I said bravely as I paid for them

“Do you know if they are for evening wear?” asked the assistant.

I made something up and fled. I think the assistant knew exactly what I was doing. To be honest I didn’t really care. I was now so confident I think I could have changed into it on the street!

I then walked into Sainsburys and bought myself some snacks for the afternoon. I had got a video from the local shop earlier and I always liked to stuff myself silly.

Walking to the till, I “Happened” to wander through their lingerie department. Thinking that the stockings I had would be for “Special” occasions I got myself a pack of cheap everyday ones. The assistant gave me a strange look as I paid for them but I ignored it.

I got a taxi back home, and lugged the television into my room. Yes it worked; I had a buyer for my old Television, so I had more mad money.

After disposing of the packaging and making sure that my parents were definitely out and not likely to back for some considerable time. I unpacked my new underwear and admired it. I carefully found a place to stow the silky creations and drew myself a hot bath.

Obviously I wanted to get the feel of the new clothes as intense as possible, so I snuck into my parents room and borrowed my Mothers Ladyshave.

10 minutes later my chest, arms and legs were silky smooth. I rubbed moisturising cream into them to get them even smoother and softer.

“But what about my cock?” I thought.

It was painful and slow progress, but eventually I had a smooth pubic area, and a lovely soft cock and balls. The cream felt wonderful as it coldly went on my skin, causing me the first of many erections.

At that point I decided that my cock looked so feminine that it shouldn’t be called such a nasty male name. This was my attempt to feminise myself and so I decided to name it my ‘Clittie’ and when it got stiff, it was being naughty.

I got in the bath, and loved the feel of the water on my new soft skin. I rubbed my legs, wondering what the stockings would feel like against them. With this thought, my ‘Clittie’ got so stiff. I wanted to wank myself off; again I didn’t want such a crude male name for relieving myself, so I re-named it. ‘Rubbing myself to climax’. I decided to leave it till much later.

I thought of how to rub myself off. In one video I had seen, a woman masturbated by rubbing herself through her panties, I decided my first time in panties would be erotic and so I decided that I would do the same. The panties WOULD NOT come off until I came in them.

I got out of the bath and carefully dried myself off. More cream on my legs, chest and of course my Clittie and I was soft and smooth again.

I walked, naked into my room, and prepared the items on my bed.

Savouring the moment, I put on a relaxing CD and considered that this would be my first experience of lingerie. Something I had been waiting for, for a long, long time.

With a big smile I UN-hooked the Basque at the back and pulled it around me.

The first touch on my soft skin was electric. It seemed to stimulate every nerve ending, as the soft material caressed every square inch of my skin. I put my shoulders through the thin straps and placed two water filled balloons into the cups of the Basque to give me breasts, although they were slightly Cold, I should have used the Warm tap, they would soon warm up.

The new weight on my chest, confided securely by the Basque felt very sexy indeed, and I am ashamed to admit that my Clittie got very stiff indeed. I allowed myself this indiscretion as I knew the little thing was very excited.

So Was I.

At that moment, I wanted to pull my clit out and wank it really hard until I came, not once, or twice, but hundreds of times. I squashed the thought and waited until she was soft again.

The next item was the lovely panties. I carefully examined them before they went on. The front was of a lacy, slightly see-through finish and the back was composed completely of black satin.

They felt so soft and sensual in my hands, I had to put them on right at that moment.

I stepped into them, and noticed with disgust that my Clittie had gotten really stiff again. This time, I wasn’t going to stand for it, and so I put her tightly between my legs, and pulled the panties quickly up.

I pulled them up over my hips, and smoothed them into position.

That moment will stay with me for the rest of my life. At that moment I wanted to be a woman full time, they can experience such lovely fabric next to their beautiful skin every day.

I don’t think I actually did very much for the next 5 minutes, except stand in amazement. I didn’t care that I probably looked horrible in the lingerie, I didn’t care that it was “wrong” all I knew that these panties had transported me to a world of soft pleasure.

I broke myself from my trance and unpacked the stockings. Not the everyday ones, this was a special occasion and so I chose the seamed ones.

I pulled the first slowly up my smooth leg, loving the caress of the material against my skin. I pulled my suspenders through the side of my panties and clipped the tops.

I repeated the exercise on the other side. I loved the extra weight I had when I bent over.

“So this was what it must be like to be a woman!” I thought.

That afternoon I spent hours lying on my bed, with my eyes closed just rubbing myself through the panties. Every stroke was a descent further into luxury. Several times I was close to climaxing but I held back for as long as I could.

The clocks span round until it showed 4:45. My parents would be home very soon and I had to finish off quickly.

I rubbed myself with more vigour, not quickly, but determinedly I wanted to come… NEEDED to come.

Then, it happened.

My Clittie, so turned on by the whole situation, sprang into life and sprayed a bucket load of cum into my panties. It filled them to capacity. But I didn’t care. My orgasm was intense. I lay back for several moments, overcome with the intensity of it all. My Basque, stockings and panties were all in need of a good wash.

I carefully stripped all my lingerie off and hid it in the little nook I had discovered.

My male clothes felt so silly on my lovely skin. But I had to wear them.

As my parents came in they asked me

“Did you have a nice day?”

“Not bad!” I replied.

I would like to tell you about something that happened to me when I was a boy of 14 years old. Firstly I was a slim "pretty" boy of average height, small boned and with quite feminine features. For as long as I can remember I liked to play dress-up with dolls and put on girl's clothes. Since puberty, this had taken on a whole new excitement.

It was about this time that a very exciting event occurred. My parents and sisters were going to Queensland for a conference but I had to stay with my auntie to finish an exam at school. My Auntie and two cousins were minding a small farm near the quiet farming village of Jamboroo.

My auntie Joan was an attractive 35-year-old who was living in Sydney. My cousins Sue and Anne were quite attractive and 17 and 14 respectively. They were all very pretty and feminine in their manner and dress. The farm, being about three hours from Sydney, ten minutes from the village and one hour from the town, was fairly isolated and the weather was cooling off so not many people would be visiting.

Auntie was apparently subconsciously jealous of me being the only boy in our families and this I guess was the driving force in what was about to happen.

My family left early on Monday morning and auntie picked me up after school. Auntie had to make a quick trip to town to drop off some clothes she was having altered and we stayed around the house. On her return, she decided we should take some old paint cans to the shed. She tripped slightly and one of the cans she was carrying spilt all over me.

The paint was only on my clothes but they were ruined. I washed and went to the bedroom to find a very pretty green dress lay on the bed. There was also a lace camisole and matching panties.

I called to my auntie to ask where my clothes were and she said that my bag must have been left in my family's car by accident and that they had also left their bag with my cousin's jeans at home as well. "You will have to wear something for the next two weeks and that is all there is," said auntie. I put up some protests and went to my room.

While I knew I would enjoy wearing the pretty clothes, being a boy I knew I had to pretend that I would not like it. A few minutes later Sue (with whom I was quite close) came in and said that while she knew I would not like to wear the clothes it was the only thing to do, and she and Anne would not laugh at me or anything. Anne came in then and promised not to laugh or tell anyone. She said I should put the clothes on, as there was no one else around anyway. They both promised again not to tell anyone and then left me alone.

I could not believe what was happening, of course I would love to dress in the pretty clothes and they were not going to mind at all let alone laugh at me. I had a perfect excuse supplied to me as I saw it.

I put on the lace panties and camisole, and then I put on the green dress. There was also a pair of lace top white socks and a pair of black buckle up shoes. I looked at myself in the mirror and having missed the last couple of haircuts I looked pretty good. I was feeling very excited and was glad that the dress had a full skirt and petticoat, which would cover signs of my excitement.

The moment had come for me to leave the room. My aunt and cousins were busy in the kitchen getting dinner ready and did not take too much notice of me. My aunt told me that that was being much more sensible. Sue told me I looked fine and Anne agreed. Then they all went on with what they were doing.

My aunt asked me to set the table. We had dinner and made small talk about nothing in particular. After dinner my aunt asked me to come over so she could have a look at me. She told me that I looked very good. She trimmed my hair and combed it into a much more feminine style.

With my new hairstyle I looked very feminine and I could easily be the younger sister of Sue. On our way to bed aunt gave me a nightie to wear and some cream to rub on in the morning before I had my shower to tidy up any unwanted hair I had.

In the morning I put on the cream, washed and put on the clothes I was wearing the day before. Sue came to my room and helped me with my hair and put the slightest amount of natural colour makeup. Looking in the mirror I could see this very pretty girl looking back at me and I started to get very excited again.

From my previous experience putting on girl's clothes I had a good idea how to act and was adapting quickly. I heard Auntie Joan calling us to breakfast so off I went, more relaxed than the previous day and feeling very feminine.

My auntie told me that I looked very pretty and totally convincing as a girl. We decided that I should have a girl's name in case someone overheard us. Sue suggested Julie and I agreed that I liked that. We finished breakfast, then my auntie put out some more clothes for me so I would have a change. She suggested we go for a walk.

I was not sure if I was ready to go outside but everyone convinced me that I would be fine. I would certainly not stand out at a distance anyway with everyone dressed in the full-skirted dresses that were fashionable at the time. It was wonderful walking across the paddocks with the skirt of my dress brushing against me and the light breeze blowing our skirts around. A larger gust of wind blew all our skirts up revealing petticoats and panties. How exciting it was. We were all enjoying this lovely day and just being so feminine.

We had walked much further along the creek than we had thought. We were now on the next property. Much to my shock, we ran into someone else - a 15-year-old boy called Luke. He knew my cousins and Aunt and I was introduced to him as Julie. I was frightened he would know I was a boy but was still very excited that someone else could see me dressed up.

To my surprise and enjoyment, he accepted me as a girl and seemed quite interested in me. We all sat on the riverbank and talked. Luke had positioned himself on the bank below us where if we wished he could get a good view under our skirts. We all took pleasure in giving him what appeared to be accidental but were actually quite deliberate glimpses of our panties and up to our skirts. Luke was obviously getting very excited although he did not realize we had noticed.

We were enjoying teasing Luke but it was getting late, so we said our goodbyes and promised to meet tomorrow. We walked back up the bank and Luke watched us until we went into the trees. Sue made an excuse about forgetting something at the river so she asked me to return with her to get it.

We hid in the trees and could see that Luke was still at the edge of the river. He was looking around and obviously thought he was alone. He had pulled down his jeans and underwear and was certainly enjoying himself. He was very excited, and Sue and I were getting excited about watching him. Sue slid her hand under her skirt. I could not see much but she was enjoying herself and was not worrying about me watching her. Sue straightened herself up and said we had better go. I was feeling very randy.

We made it back to the house had dinner and went to bed. I took the opportunity of being alone in bed to relieve the pressure built up due to today's fun. The silky nightie on my body did the trick.

In the morning I showered and put on the padded lacy bra and panties, white petticoat and the pale ye1low dress. The dress was soft and the petticoat made the skirt full swish as I walked. Auntie Joan complemented me on how I looked. I was getting the idea that she was enjoying me being dressed and acting like a girl. I was enjoying it as I well - for the first time I was feeling so complete and full.

Sue, Anne and I sat outside under the trees and talked about clothes, and boys, and making out, and about seeing Luke pulling himself off.

While I still considered myself a boy, the way I was dressed and acting made this all feel so natural. Sue told us how she would sit in the front seat of the bus because she knew that the boys behind could see up under the skirt of her tunic in the mirror. She enjoyed the idea of all the boys getting hard looking at her. She also liked to bend over a bit more than she had to, teasing the boys.

Auntie and my cousins decided to go to town but despite the protests, I decided I was not ready yet to let other people see me. After they left I went for a walk and ran into Luke. At first, I was a bit unsure but after I realized he was convinced that I was a girl I decided to have some fun.

It was still a bit gusty so my skirt was blown up revealing my petticoat and panties. I could see that I had his attention so I forged on. I sat on the bank and knew he was able to see up my skirt. Then we went for a walk. He was holding my hand and helping me down over some rocks. Taking some advice from Sue I was able to make sure Luke could get lots of good views under my skirt, and it was obvious that it was all having the desired effect. Luke was getting turned on - and strangely enough so was I.

Over the next rock, I gently slid my body down against Luke. He held me for a moment and then I put my lips against his and kissed him. He was very shy and surprised but he enjoyed it. We sat back on the grass and kissed again. His shyness gave in to his passion and he awkwardly slid his hand under my skirt and around my bottom. He slid his hand into the back of my panties and I felt very aroused but I had to stop him before I was found out. I grabbed his hand and said that it was that time of the month. He nervously pulled away. So I reassured him I could still kiss and make him feel nice. Twenty minutes passed as we talked and cuddled. I had to get back so we repaired ourselves, kissed and parted.

On the way back up the hill, I ran into Sue in the bushes she had watched the whole thing. She held my hand and we kissed on our ruby lips. Laying on the ground our legs entwined and hands groping under our skirts. She then removed my panties and threw up my skirt and petticoats. How nice it was as I felt her touch me. It had all been too much. We smoothed our skirts and returned to the house for dinner with our secrets.

The next day we seemed to just continue as though nothing had happened. I dressed in a soft white cotton blouse a full navy blue skirt and white petticoat. I did my hair and makeup. I was getting well practised with my hair and makeup and was looking better. The makeup was very natural and not too much for a girl my age.

At breakfast, auntie announced that we would go to the village for some groceries. She added that she was sorry there were no clothing shops in what was only a village. I was glad of that but I did not let on. My auntie commented that I seem to be happy to wear girls clothes now and I said that they were not too bad. I tried not to seem too excited.

I was not sure about going to town but knew I would not be able to get out of it this time. We all headed for the town in the car dressed in our pretty dresses and skirts. I was filled with excitement and fear at some one else seeing me. My cousins told me that I would have no problems passing for a girl and not to worry.

In town, we walked from shop to shop. I was being introduced as Julie and no one seemed to question my being a girl. How exciting it was. In fact, most people thought I was the most attractive. What fun. Sue and I spent the morning flirting with the boys and when the opportunity presented itself bending over counters causing our skirts to be pulled up and giving the boys a good look at our panties. It is amazing what fun it was teasing the men and boys.

Back at the farm, we had lunch and then went for a walk. It was a beautiful sunny day walking through the paddocks. There was a gentle breeze blowing with a few gusts that would blow up our skirts and petticoats. The breeze was wonderful swirling under our skirts. I wondered if the others were enjoying everything as much as I was.

It was quite late when we returned from our walk so we had an early dinner and went to bed.

The next morning was a bit chilly, so after putting on my lacy bra panties and camisole I put on a top and a warm full red skirt. Then I put on a cream jumper that came to my waist. At breakfast that morning I saw the others had dressed much the same - I was happy to see I was getting the hang of being a girl because I really enjoyed it.

After breakfast, my auntie had to visit someone so she dropped us at the beach to play. It was far too cold to swim today but we had great fun playing around in the bush in the sand dunes. On the way, we grabbed at each other's boobs and flicked each other's skirts up much to the excitement of some teenage boys on the beach.

How very exciting it all was. We were playing around in the rocks on the beach and having a great time feeling so feminine. We walked along hugging each other and flicking up our skirts. It was a great day. After a couple of hours of playing around, we saw someone, it was Luke.

Luke came over and we talked for awhile and flirted with him flipping up our skirts accidentally and making sure he was getting turned on. Sue enjoyed flirting and I was enjoying it too. Poor Luke had to put up with our teasing for the next hour. Then again maybe he was enjoying it too. I was certainly enjoying being a girl.

What a holiday this turned out to be and we still had three weeks to go...

A Short story - MY WIFE KAREN

My wife of five years moved her lips close to one of my ears. “You know!” She said, breaking the silence that had been enveloping us for the last couple of minutes. “I guess I have to agree with you. Satin and lace do make a person feel sexy and feminine!” She teased.

She was throwing my own words back into my face. Words that I had said to her just a month earlier when I told her she should stop wearing cotton panties. Her only response at the time was that cotton panties were more comfortable. But four weeks later, on her birthday, she had more to say after opening her present and finding several pairs of lacy panties and a matching bra and panty set constructed of shinny satin inside the box.

She looked at me for a moment, then back at the contents of the box, then back at me again. I smiled, then shrugged. “I think they pretty! Not to mention sexy!” I told her, already aware that she wasn’t pleased. A moment or two passed, then she she moved the box onto my lap. “If you like them so much! You wear them!” She said in a firm voice. I told her not to be like that, but after a short time she lifted the matching bra and panty set up between us. “I mean it!” She told me. “If you like them so much, you wear them. If you show me that you like them enough that your willing to wear them, then I’ll consider wearing them myself!” She said matter-of-factly.

I felt myself blushing a little as I lowered my eye’s. When I looked up she was still starring at me. “I’m serious.” She said. “If you’d really like to see me wearing them, then you’ll put them on for me first.” She said. Then she stood up and told me that she was going to take a quick shower before bed.

I followed her into the bedroom after switching off the T.V. and the lights, then I sat on the edge of the bed and listened to the sound of the water hitting the shower enclosure. I don’t know what caused me to decide to call her bluff, but the next thing that happened was that I had stripped off everything I was wearing.

My hands were quivering as I removed all the tags and such from the lace and satin bra, which I wrapped around me and fastened closed. Once I had done that I slipped the elastic straps up my arms and into place on my shoulders.

I quickly pulled the single tag from the high cut French style panties, then held them open while I stepped into them. I would have had to admit that they felt delightful on my bottom and absolutely fabulous against my dick, but I wasn’t allowed much time to think about it because just then I heard the shower stop.

I put the box down, then quickly slipped under the covers on my normal side of the bed. I fluffed them up to my chin, then closed my eye’s. Karen came out of the steam filled bathroom and stood at the foot of the bed while she towel dried her hair. She commented that she was glad the weekend was here and that she needed a change of pace after the hectic week she’d put in.I agreed that it was nice the following day was Saturday, then I laid quietly, as if trying to sleep. In truth my wearing of the feminine lingerie made me feel so naughty that I had a huge erection.

After turning off the lights she got into bed. I waited several seconds before turning so I was facing her, then I moved so my body was pressing against hers. Then I slipped my leg up over her hip so my knee was lying at the top of her thighs.

I protested that I wasn’t a sissy, but she countered by asking what else could I be. “Wearing girls panties and a bra turn you on!” She said, then asked. “Isn’t that what a sissy is? A boy who likes girlie things?” She snickered when she realized I didn’t have a ready answer then she took advantage of the opportunity my silence provided.

“It’s alright James!” She said, adding. “I kind of like the way the things your wearing make you feel!” She used her tongue to fuck my ear. “For some reason feeling these panties and this bra on you make me hot!”

She played with my dick through my panties for a while longer, then after lowering the front of them, she mounted me in the female superior position. “Since your a little sissy you have to be on the bottom like you were a real girl!” She told me as she started to move up and down on my stiff cock. Now she was tweaking both of my nipples through the cups of my bra. “We’ll have to do something to fill out your bra like it should be though!” She said, then she stiffened up for a short period. It didn’t last long, but she usually climaxed more then once and that was only the first.

After a stronger and more intense second orgasm she climbed off of me then got to her feet, standing beside the bed. She planted her hands on her hips as she looked down at me. “You shouldn’t have stopped with just a bra and a pair of panties though!” She told me shaking her head.

I watched as she went to her dresser and in the darkness rummaged through several of her drawers. She dropped some things on the bed when she came back to stand beside it. The lack of light made it so I couldn’t figure out what she was doing when she pulled one of my legs up into the air. Once I felt her pulling something over that foot and halfway down my calve I realised what was up! She was encasing my legs in nylons. I didn’t fight to hard when she did the same to the other leg and I even lifted my bottom up when she pulled the upper part over my ass and hips.

“Now my little sissy!” She said in a very sarcastic voice. “Here’s a pretty feminine slip for you to put on!” She added and then she dropped something onto my tummy. The elastic waistband was the first thing I felt and after holding it up for only a moment she told me to put it on. Only now her voice was hard and stern.

I don’t know why, but I put my smooth nylon covered feet through that slip then pulled up up around my middle while Karen slipped something into the cups of my bra. “This will help fill out that bra of yours!” She exclaimed playfully, kneading the now protruding mounds with her fingers several times.

While my attention was focused on looking down past my new bustline she dashed to the closet where she pulled one of her flirty sun dresses off of it’s hanger. “Lift up your arms!” She ordered as she raised the dress over my head. After feeding the sleaves over my hands she dropped the dress so that it floated down into place.

She pulled the long zipper running up the back closed, then twisted my shoulders so I was looking at her. “Don’t move!” She said moving away from me. Suddenly the room was filled with light that made it almost impossible for me to see. I rubbed my eye’s and squinted, waiting for them to adjust. Once they had I saw her standing a couple of feet in front of me smiling at me as she looked me over. “Well look at yourself sissy!” She mused. “Your experiencing what every little panty-waist wishes for! To have a woman force them to dress up in her feminine clothes!” She seemed to take great delight in saying that to me.

“Oh, there is one thing missing!” She said putting a finger to her lips. Raising her eyebrows she asked me if I knew what it was, to which I answered that I didn’t. “Shoes you silly girl!” She said folding her arms under her breasts. “Quickly now, put on a pair of heels like a good girl!” She said motioning toward the closet with a nod of her head.

I was actually a little frightenend as I nodded my agreement. “Yes Karen.” I said as she stared down at me. She took a deep breath, then sat up.

“Now you little sissy bitch!” She said folding her arms under her breasts. “Who’s the boss around here?” She asked. I blinked a couple of times then softly replied that she was. She nodded as a big smile appeared on her face. “That’s right you little sissy c*nt! And since your now my wife! You will do everything a faithful little wife should do for her husband! Understand?” She asked loudly. I nodded.

I didn’t even see it coming, but I sure felt it when her open hand landed against the side of my face. “That’s not the correct way to answer me bitch!” She yelled. “Yes I understand!” I blurted out as I rubbed my cheek. Without saying another word she twisted me so her knee’s were pinning my arms down under them.

“As my wife I expect you to be wearing feminine girls panties from now on!” She said, adding. “All the time just like a real girl!” She smiled at me. “And whenever your home I expect you to be dressed like a sissy in a dress or skirt and blouse and a bra and panties and a slip, nylons and high heels!” She said, her stern voice not leaving any room for discussion.

“And if I’m ever displeased or you ever disappoint me you can plan on being punished!” She told me. “Just like any naughty little girl!” She added. “I’ll make you bend over, then lift your dress up so it’s out of the way and then I’ll swat your bottom with my hairbrush until you aren’t able to sit down!” She gleefully told me.

With my arms pinned down she had forced me to turn so I was lying flat on my back. After describing what she might do to me she moved down from my waist so she was straddling my hips. This caused my hard penis to center itself between her thighs as she slid down over it.

I was actually a little frightened as I nodded my agreement. “Yes Karen.” I said as she stared down at me. She took a deep breath, then sat up.

“Now you little sissy bitch!” She said folding her arms under her breasts. “Who’s the boss around here?” She asked. I blinked a couple of times then softly replied that she was. She nodded as a big smile appeared on her face. “That’s right you little sissy c*nt! And since your now my wife! You will do everything a faithful little wife should do for her husband! Understand?” She asked loudly. I nodded.

I didn’t even see it coming, but I sure felt it when her open hand landed against the side of my face. “That’s not the correct way to answer me bitch!” She yelled. “Yes I understand!” I blurted out as I rubbed my cheek. Without saying another word she twisted me so her knee’s were pinning my arms down under them.

“As my wife I expect you to be wearing feminine girls panties from now on!” She said, adding. “All the time just like a real girl!” She smiled at me. “And whenever your home I expect you to be dressed like a sissy in a dress or skirt and blouse and a bra and panties and a slip, nylons and high heels!” She said, her stern voice not leaving any room for discussion.

“And if I’m ever displeased or you ever disappoint me you can plan on being punished!” She told me. “Just like any naughty little girl!” She added. “I’ll make you bend over, then lift your dress up so it’s out of the way and then I’ll swat your bottom with my hairbrush until you aren’t able to sit down!” She gleefully told me.

With my arms pinned down she had forced me to turn so I was lying flat on my back. After discribing what she might do to me she moved down from my waist so she was straddling my hips. This caused my hard penis to center itself between her thighs as she slid down over it.

It was not only because of how I was dressed, but also how being dressed this way was making me feel. I was embarrassed that I kind of liked the way the feminine clothes felt to wear. The guilt combined with the shame didn’t leave me any other choice but to submissively do as she said.

I was amazed at how easily my feet slipped into a pair of her white high heeled pumps, the nylons acting as a kind of lubrication. I felt a little wobbly as I made my way back in front of Karen and presented myself.

She circled around me, then pushed me onto the bed. I felt her climb ontop of me and then I heard her laugh. “Well sissy!”She said, adding. “All your lacking now is make-up!” Her tone of voice made it obvious that she was trying to tease me, to embarrass me as much as possible.

I felt one of her knee’s press against my inner thighs, then move up and over my still hard organ. “I can feel that your loving what I’m doing to you! So much so that you would probably like me putting make-up on you!” She taunted in an almost scolding voice. She grabbed my hair with her hands and held me so I was forced to look up at her. “I want to hear you say it!” She said, wrinkling her nose. “Confess that you enjoy being my little sissy!” She ordered.

To make a long story somewhat shorter after continued prodding and her ordering me to say that to her I finally told her in a meek voice that I liked what she had done to me. But that wasn’t enough because as soon as I had said that she made me say that I liked being a sissy and that I loved wearing girls clothes.

“Since your obviously going to be the one wearing the lace and satin in this relationship, from now on I shall consider you the wife!” She said with a broad grin. “And I shall be the husband!” She quickly added.

She bent down so her face was close to mine. “And a good wife is obediant! Isn’t she?” She asked. I nodded my head and answered with a yes Karen. “And since your going to be an obediant wife you will do what ever I tell you to do! Won’t you sissy!” She asked. She was very stern, almost harsh sounding now.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, opening her eye’s as wide as they would go. “Your even harder then you were! Hearing what I have planned excited you!” She laughed for a moment. “Then I shouldn’t have any trouble at all turning you into my little sissy slave-girl should I?” She teased.

When she saw me shake my head she told me to stick out my tongue. Once I had she raised up onto her knee’s. “Now show me how good my sissy slave-girl is at worshiping my pussy! A pussy that she wished she had between her own legs!” She said. Then she lowered her crotch down so my tongue slid passed her lips into her wet tunnel. She didn’t stop until her pussy was covering my mouth.

I couldn’t figure out what had happened to me. All I knew was that submitting to my wife and being dominated and forced to dress in these girls clothes excited me so much I was almost willing to do anything she ordered me to do. “Come on sissy! You can do better then that!” She exclaimed loudly and I eagerly increased my sucking and licking of her crotch.

I continued to use my mouth and tongue to, what she called, “Worship” her pussy, making her climax at least twice. The whole time she told me about things she said she would like to make me do and about things she said she would like to do to me. “I’d like to make you as feminine looking as possible!” She started out saying, then she went on. “Maybe force you to take female hormone pills that would cause you to grow firm breasts like any real girl! Then after you’ve been trained to act and move like a woman I’d love showing you off to my friends! Maybe even inviting a select few to get into bed with you!” She teased over and over.

“After you were to feminine looking to keep on working I might dress you up and then send you into a gay bar to earn some money to make up for your lack of income!” She said openly showing her amusement at the image that statement created in her head.

“Once I’ve totaly feminized you so that you’d never be looked on as a male again, I might start dating other men again. I might even set you up with a date of your own and we could double!” I was feeling more and more humiliated because everything she was saying seemed to make me feel more excited.

I was to the point even the slight movement of my panties over my erect cock felt like it was going to make me come. I was thankful that she stopped and that she moved off of my face before that happened.

After lying down along side of me she began to gently move her hand over the obvious lump in the front of my dress. She didn’t apply enough pressure to make me come, but just enough to tease and frustrate me. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about yourself sometime during these last five years?” Karen asked as she playfully rubbed my dress and slip over my panties.

I stammered for a moment, then managed to say. “I didn’t know.” Of course she asked me “Didn’t know what?”. The embarrassment that flood through me was unbelievable, but I forced myself to answer her.

“I didn’t know that I would enjoy wearing girls clothes!” I said. She prompted me until I added. “And that I was really a little sissy!” She seemed pleased hearing me say that and she told me I was a good girl for being honest and answering her like she wanted me to.

“Don’t you get excited thinking about being forced to wear girls clothes all weekend?” She asked knowingly. After I replied that it did she asked me if I wanted her to do that to me and once again I answered positively. Then she asked, well more like stated. “Thinking about me making you into my little slave-girl really turns you on doesn’t it!” She laughed when I admited that it sounded exciting.

She gently and cautiously slipped her hand under my dress, then moved it up onto my tummy. “I should make you wear a bra full time as well!” She said teasingly, as she slipped her hand under the lacy elastic waistband of my panties.

She kissed my neck and licked my ear as she worked her hand around over one hip then wedged it under one side of my bottom. “Of course if I force you to become my slave-girl that means I’ll probably use you just like a real girl once and a while!” She said as she worked her hand down so her fingers were moving freely in the valley between my cheeks.

“I don’t see how I could have a little slave-girl and not take her just like any other girl would be taken? Do you?” She asked pressing the tip of one of her fingers against my tiny opening. “Do you see any possible way that you could keep that from happening?” She asked as she pushed the first 1/3 of her index finger into my hole.

In a quivering voice I answered that I didn’t know how that could be kept from happening. “No I don’t either!” She snickered as she forced the rest of her finger into me until her knuckles stop her from going any deeper. She moved her lips very close to my ear. “But with you being such a sissy and loving being made into a girl you wouldn’t mind something like that happening. Would you?” She questioned as she began to move her finger slowly in and out of my hole. After a couple of tenative pumps she fell into a slow and easy rythymn.

“Am I right sissy?” She asked. “Would you like to be used in that way?” She kept asking me, prompting me until she forced me to tell her that I would probably enjoy being taken like a real girl.

“Delightful!” She said after listening to me admit that to her. “I think that I’d love to watch you being used like that myself!” She added with an amused tone of voice.

If you've enjoyed this short story please follow us at www.transformation.co.uk where you can shop for all your feminine essentials including Silicone Breasts, Vagina Panties, Female Wigs, Female Clothing, Foundation Clothing, Lingerie, Shoes and of course our highly effective Male To Female Hormones. 

JANICES SUMMER

With summer passing I thought I'd recount what had happened to me this summer. It was a summer of revelation, which was both scary and exhilarating. Firstly let me tell you that I'm 22 and I started with my present employer when I left University last year. I've been dressing when I got the chance for some time, and as I'm only 5'4" and 8 stone I don't think I look too extreme. Now I have a decent job I can afford my own place and am able to spend more time dressed around the house. Anyway I've always tried to be discreet and hoped that nobody would take too much notice. In July we completed a major part of a big contract, despite the timescales being tight (unrealistically so) we worked all hours necessary and got the job done. The project manager was pleased and after the wash up meeting for the stage he said that although there'd be a bonus - we should have a long weekend to make up for some of the extra time. So the team had the Monday & Friday off.   On the Thursday evening I got out the dep cream and soon my body, legs and arms were hairless. Lounging in a satin nightie and then bed followed a long soak in a scented bath. In the morning I lounged about a bit again, painted my nails (fingers and toes) - no hurry and then dressed. I'd chosen a pretty light blue lace bra and pants set with a full and floaty petticoat, lemon coloured (layers of chiffon edged in lace). Over this went a white circular poly-cotton skirt and a white georgette blouse. The outfit was completed with a necklace and a couple of bracelets, a pair of black high heel sandelised shoes and a cardigan. Checking the coast was clear I walked out to the car and drove off for a run. I drove off to a near(ish) beauty spot and was lucky that there was nobody else there. I was glad to stop as the temperature gauge on my old car started to zoom up so it gave the old girl time to cool. Fortunately the area was deserted so I took the chance to get out and have a walk around in the fresh air. It was terrific simply walking, feeling the skirt & petticoats move. I' brought some sandwiches and a flask so I sat on a nearby bench and had a little picnic. However, soon it was time to head back. I got into the car and turned on the engine, almost straight away the temperature went up and there was steam everywhere. I opened the bonnet and water was spraying out of one of the hoses. I was now ready to panic. I wasn't in the RAC/AA and besides well I was in a skirt. Eventually I phoned Lorna. Lorna was friend and also a member of the team so would be off for the day and she had gone on about how she had done a car maintenance course. I briefly explained the problem with the car and asked if she could help.   Fortunately she thought replacing the hose wouldn't be a problem and she'd be straight out. I did suggest that she try not to be too shocked when she saw me, which probably raised her curiosity...

Transgender Life   About twenty minutes later her car arrived. She had brought Sarah. While Lorna was someone I'd call a friend; Sarah was more an acquaintance and had a reputation as the team gossip. Well, both of them, their jaws dropped, they looked at me and then at each other, then they grinned and giggled. Once they'd settled down there were questions, you know - how long had I been doing this, was I gay etc. Then Lorna decided it was time to get the replacement hose and did I want to go with her, not really. The idea of standing in Halfords in my skirt didn't appeal. So off she went leaving me with Sarah. Too pass the time a bit we walked a little way down towards a nearby stream. Sarah stopped for a moment and when I turned Sarah she had taken out of her bag a small camera and took a couple of photos. I wasn't amused and went off in a bit of a huff back to the car. She came after me and we ended up sitting on the bench near the car chatting.   I let her take another picture and then went to stand up. Unfortunately I missed my footing in the heels and promptly fell back over the corner of the bench. As I fell I ended up with the front of my skirt and petticoats up around my waist and my blouse unbuttoned and open. So there I lay, one leg on the bench, one on the ground exposed up to the waist and blouse wide open, displaying my bra and pants set to the world. Sarah laughed and there were a couple of clicks. I struggled to my feet and managed to fasten myself up again. I saw the funny side and soon we were both laughing. Soon Lorna returned with the new hose and a couple of old squash bottles of water. We fitted the hose and filled up the radiator. Lorna said I did realise that there was a price to pay, and that was I had to have a day out with her and Sarah the next day and also on Sunday? Not only was I to join them, I was to be dressed in a skirt or dress. I wasn't too keen but they both laughed and said it would be fun and I'd have some company. Well we drove back to my place and the girls managed to park a couple of houses away, making me walk back to my own house. I was going to run so as not to be exposed to the neighbours for too long, but its not easy in high heels! When we got in I made tea for us and we went to sit in the garden. When I went back in for some biscuits Lorna followed me in and pointed out the state of my skirt and blouse which had now acquired some grubby marks as a consequence of falling over. Somehow she seemed to take charge and had me strip down to my bra and pants and then sent me off to change. So I returned to the garden in a pretty cotton floral summer dress. When they left they reminded me that I was expected around at Lorna's the next day suitably attired.   I felt drained. The day had been full of panic and stress and the next day was going to be the same. I spent not too great a night worrying what lay ahead. In the morning I was up and dressed fairly early. I'd chosen a nice cotton skirt and white blouse. I sat by the back door with a cup of tea trying to relax. Lorna called to check that I hadn't forgot and she said I should try and get around to her place for oneish and have some lunch. So at around half twelve I checked that there wasn't anyone around and made my way out to the car. It didn't take long to get to Lornas' place. Sarah was already there and soon we sat down to some salad and a chat. Somehow it wasn't quite so stressful as I'd imagined. After lunch we had a trip out to the shops, a new experience for me, followed by tea in a cafe. Later it was back to Lornas for a rest. After some sandwiches we went out again this time to the cinema then a curry. It was nearly midnight by the time I eventually got home. On the Sunday the girls called for me just before twelve and we went off to a nice fairly secluded pub for a pub lunch. Despite it being fairly busy nobody seemed to take any notice of me. Presumably we looked just like three girls out for lunch. Anyway that was the main events of the weekend. On the Tuesday it was back to work. There was the usual banter about the weekend, good weekend? Do anything? Did you watch etc. It wasn't until Sarah produced the photos she'd taken over the weekend that my heart sank. There in technicolour me in skirts, me in dresses even a couple showing me in bra and pants (when I fell over and when I got changed at home).   Well what do you say, all I could do was brazen it out, take the jokes etc. Sarah at some stage scanned several of the photos and at lunch time we loaded MS Scenes on my machine, and created a gallery of my pictures to use as a screen saver and as a desktop image. On the Wednesday evening I went out with Lorna, Sarah and Jenny (one of the others) for a meal. Somehow the previous day's revelations were like a weight lifted and it didn't worry me going along in a skirt and top. It was an enjoyable evening. At the end Lorna told me she had a treat for me for Friday and after work she'd pick me up, I should wear something nice but not too constraining - intriguing...

Transgender Life   When Friday came I was ready at five in a cotton print dress with a fluffy chiffon & lace petticoat. We drove down to the local shopping area, not the town centre. It was hardly worth the drive as it was only about half a mile away. Lorna led me into the hairdressers (sorry salon). She introduced me to the hairdresser Sylvia (or should that be stylist), hardly necessary as she lived at the end of my street. She sat me down and tried to put the cover around me and decided that the neckline of my dress was in the way so could I nip behind the screen and remove my dress. I was given a nylon robe, which came down to mid thigh. So there I say in the chair with petticoats on display while Sylvia started messing with my hair. She wetted it, cut it and covered it with various lotions and potions while her trainee gave me a manicure and pedicure. It wa,s I must admit, great to be so pampered. I asked what she was doing with my hair and she said that Lorna had asked her to style it a little, lighten the colour a little and put in a few highlights. While I was resting, recovering from this she told me to look to the left and when I did so - ouch, my ear!. Then she pierced the left one. By the time I was ready to leave I'd had a manicure, pedicure ears pierced and eyebrows shaped and dyed. I put on my dress again and was at long last allowed to see what she'd done. My brown hair was now a lot lighter with blonde streaks and shaped in a sort of bob style coming in in a big curl at the bottom with a prominent fringe. The bobbed hair hung away from my ears, which allowed the black studs to be easily visible. My eyebrows were a lot darker and thinner, arched like a girl and my fingers and toes now had vibrant red polish. Lorna was pleased with the results and, if I have to admit it, I wasn't too upset either. She had me make another appointment for a couple of weeks. We went out for a meal and I felt really confident.   The hair was a bit embarrassing on Monday but they'd already seen the photos and my screensaver (and Sarah's) so this wasn't as awful as it could have been. At the start of the following week Lorna told me that Sylvia had had to cancel the Friday booking and moved it to Thursday evening. So on the Thursday I made my way to the salon to have my hair done again. By the time I left qmy hair was almost blonde and had curls around the bottom helping it have extra body. I had another manicure and pedicure plus my legs waxed (ouch!). Lorna called for me first thing on Friday. Being an early riser I was sitting in a skirt and blouse wondering what to do with my hair for work. I enjoyed getting up early, particularly in the summer, when I could sit in a dress or skirt for a while before getting changed and going to work. It was Lorna who organised me. Previously I'd bought a three-piece suit from a catalogue, jacket skirt and trousers; she brought out the jacket and trousers. So I ended up sitting in my ladies trousers (back zip) with a white teashirt on over a white lace bra and pants set (no falsies though), stockings and suspenders. She brushed my hair for me, attacked it with spray and finished off with a black hair band. I put on my jacket, a pair of flattish shoes and a pair of earrings and we were off. When we got to the office she gave me a quick spray of perfume and escorted me in.   Well that's it. I haven't actually gone to work in a skirt or dress but it's not far off it. As some of the others say I might as well be wearing a dress. It was a bit touchy at times, but things seem to be settling down. Relationships may have changed, but we still seem to be working as a team. 

Janice

MARGARET'S STORY

  Hi, my name is Margaret and I'd like to tell you about my first 'real' cross-dressing experience. I had played the part of the daughter of Rosie O'Grady in a school play - it was an all boys school and since I was always one of the shortest boys, I'd get picked to play the girl. That first time I was 7 years old and I absolutely loved all the attention and the way I felt and looked. Of course I couldn't let on.   When I was about 12 years old, our next door neighbor asked my mother if I would be willing to help her alter some of her clothes, as she did a great deal of sewing and alterations etc. She had just provided me with a dress for another school play and knew that I was her size. My mother agreed that I would help, without even consulting me. This lady was always very good to us and mother felt that it was the least we could do. The next afternoon, after school, I went next door and Polly, our neighbor, thanked me for coming in to help her. I wasn't aware of exactly she wanted to do until I got there. She had a few dresses hanging on a hook on the back of the door, and told me that she needed to hem them and take them in a bit. She wanted me to put them on so that she could use me as a manniquin.

Initially she asked me to remove my shirt and pants, which I did. She put the dress on me and decided that she had to put a stuffed bra on me so that the dress fell properly. She and I were the exact same size. She began hemming the dress and I was absolutely loving the feeling I had wearing this dress.   The next day I suggested that she would get a better idea of how her dresses would look if I was wearing heels. She smiled. I think she knew that I was enjoying this little sojourn into pretending to be a girl. She said, "That's a very good idea. In fact, in order to fit the heels on properly you'll need stockings and garters". I had no objection to that! Finally she said, "Why don't I put a slip on you, then the dress will fall just right". She got me all dressed and proceeded to do her alterations. When she was done she was going to give me some hot cocoa and cookies. She said, "Go inside and change and I'll have the cocoa ready for you". Instead of changing, I posed in front of her full length mirror, loving the way I looked. I went out to the kitchen and she wondered why I hadn't changed. I told her that I liked the dress and the way it looked on me and didn't want to change yet. She was wonderful! From that day on, whenever I went to help her, she would get me all dressed in female attire and eventually put some make-up on me and even a wig.   She never told my parents and continued to have me come to her apartment regularly dress me up, even when she didn't have any alterations to do. In fact, she had altered a few outfits just for me! That was one of the greatest experiences I ever had with cross-dressing... Margaret

Tranvestites at Sea - A Short Story 

Sarah rested her elbows on the polished wood of the ship's rail and stared across the rolling expanse of the Atlantic ocean. As a representative of a national tour company it was her job to experience first-hand potential new holiday packages before they were given the firm's approval. She had been looking forward to this particular trip as she had always enjoyed cruises, but her enjoyment was marred by her boss's decision to accompany her. Mark Collins was a pest in the office, where he constantly lived up to his nickname of 'Mr Hands Everywhere', but he had become even more of a nuisance since they boarded ship together, taking every opportunity to force his attentions upon her. As though her thoughts had conjured him up, Sarah's boss appeared by her side and she straightened as his hand grasped her buttock with a familiarity that she had not invited. "Don't touch me," she ordered sharply, and firmly pushed the offending hand away. She had long since given up trying to put him off politely, but still her words bounced off his thick skin. "Just being friendly, my dear, nothing to get upset about," he responded with a patronising smile that Sarah would have dearly loved to slap off his face. But he was her boss. Gritting her teeth in frustration she turned away and again stared out to sea. She wished fervently that there was some way she could retaliate without fear of losing her job, some way in which she could pay him back for his habitual mistreatment of her and the other women in the office. On the horizon another ship was heading towards them, it's running lights burning brightly in the evening twilight. She concentrated on its progress hoping that he would take the hint that his company was not welcome. As she watched, the distance between the two vessels narrowed, and she could see that they appeared to be on a collision course. "That one has to give way," he said, but the other ship showed no sign of diverting course or even slowing. It was not until it was close enough for Sarah to make out the face of the men on the bridge that the deep throaty sound of their own ship's siren rent the air. Simultaneously she heard the sound of the engines change as the liner, recognising the danger, tried to take evasive action. Slowly, the ship began to turn, but the manoeuvre cam too late and Sarah was thrown to the hard deck as the two ships collided. Immediately it was apparent that serious damage had been inflicted on their ship. As the sirens continued to sound Sarah headed quickly for the nearest rendezvous point. "Sarah! Sarah!" She heard a voice calling her name and turned to see her boss running towards her, panic evident on his face. "We're sinking," he said when he reached her. "They're calling for everyone to go to the lifeboat stations!" "Well, let's go then," she answered patiently. "They're calling for women and children first," he told her, "I don't want to be left here!" Sarah started to reassure him that although the ship was obviously damaged it seemed in no immediate danger of going under, and there would be plenty of time to get everyone off, but she stopped herself. An idea was quickly taking shape in her mind...

  "Come with me," she told him, and at the same time grabbing his arm to make sure he followed. Mark went willingly. He had no wish to stay on a sinking ship and if she could think of some way to smuggle him off then he was happy to let her lead him back inside the ship. In less than a minute they were back inside Sarah's cabin. "Get undressed," she ordered and opened some drawers to take out a selection of clothes. "If it's women and children first then you will have to be a woman." She turned to face him and dropped the clothes she had chosen on the bed. Mark hadn't moved. "Do you want to stay here and drown?" she asked pleasantly. Mark hesitated for a moment longer before his fear overcame his embarrassment. Quickly he stripped off his clothes until he stood in just his underwear, but Sarah refused to let him keep any dignity at all. "The ship is sinking..." she reminded him. Heat suffused his face as Mark removed the last garment and stood naked before her. "Put this on," she instructed and handed him a lacy bra. His fingers fumbled with the catch at the back, then he padded out the cups with tissues. Next he stepped into the panties she had picked out for him and folowed these with a pair of thick woolly tights. "We don't have time to shave your legs," she explained, "but those cover them well enough." Mark put on the skirt she offered him without replying. It fitted well. Hugging his hips and buttocks closely, the hem stopped several inches above his knees. A satin blouse completed his outfit. "A scarf should be enough to hide your hair, then we can go," Sarah decided, But as she spoke the ship's sirens stopped and a calm voice announced that the crew had been able to contain the damage caused by the collision, and that the ship would be able to make the nearest port unaided. "Thank God for that!" Mark said grinning, happy now that the danger was over. He began to undo the buttons of his blouse. "Not so fast," Sarah told him. Before he could guess her intentshe had scooped up his clothes and thrown them through the open window of her cabin into the sea below. "What..." he began angrily, but Sarah interrupted him. "Suppose I call the captain," she suggested. "What do you think he would do seeing you like that? Have you arrested perhaps, or at the very least tell the press. I bet you'd lose your job." "Blackmail!" Mark said in disgust. "How much do you want?" "You can't buy your way out of this," Sarah answered. "The only way you are going to keep this a secret is to stay as a woman until we get to port." Mark stared at her in disbelief. "You're crazy if you think I'm going to stay like this!" he said angrily. "Your choice," Sarah told him with saccharine sweetness. "You were willing to act as a woman to get off this ship, but if you would rather that everyone knew that..." She left the rest of the sentence unsaid and reached for the phone by the bed, but Mark stopped her before she could pick it up. "Okay," he agreed.

  Sarah grinned in triumph, then hunted for the camera she always took with her on foreign trips. "I can't have you denying everything aftwerwards," she explained as she made him pose for her. She finished the film and took it from the camera, telling him that she would put it in the ship's safe once the purser's office opened again. "In the meantime, let's see if we can make you more convincing." Mark's whole body was stiff with resentment as he sat on the small stool by her dressing table. He would have his revenge for this, he thought grimly. Then he realised uncomfortably that revenge was exactly why he was in this predicament. He gave a small sigh in resignation and watched in the mirror as she first shaped and styled his hair into a more feminine style, then began to apply make-up. With each step he was transformed a little more until he she finally stood back and let him see his new look. A pretty young woman looked out of the mirror at him and Mark swallowed hard, realising that it was his own reflection. "What do you think?" Sarah asked. "I don't know," Mark admitted. He was surprised that it had taken so little to transform him into a convincing woman, but at the same time he was relieved that he appeared female rather than a man dressed in drag. At least he would be spared that humiliation. "No one need find out unless I decide to tell them," Sarah said, and Mark knew that he was being reminded that he was effectively in her power. He watched, feeling self conscious and vulnerable in his new attire as she hunted in the wardrobe for shoes. "These should do," she told him and held up a pair of plain black court shoes. Mark eyed the 3 inch heels dubiously, but Sarah would tolerate no objections. "You can hardly tour the ship in stocking soles," she said. Mark thought briefly that he would be happy to remain in the cabin until they were safely back on dry land, but he was quickly learning that he was in no position to argue. With a heavy sigh that brought a smug grin to Sarah's lips he put on the shoes. At least a full size too small for him, they crushed his toes as he stood in them, but after he was told to walk across the cabin several times he found that he could manage it with reasonable confidence. "Right, let's go and see what's happening," Sarah suggested and led the way out of the cabin. Mark followed nervously, expecting at any moment to be denounced as a fraud, but all the passengers they met were too busy celebrating the fact that they were now safe to notice anything unusual in the two 'women'. Their first stop was at the purser's office where they joined the crowd of people all trying to find out what was happening. The purser's own reliefe was obvious as he informed them that the ship was really in no immediate danger, but that it would take several days before they reached shore. Sarah left her film with him, as she had threatened, then took Mark to the restaurant where food was once again being served. "Take smaller bites," she told him as he bit into a sandwich. "Women don't bolt down their food like animals." Mark glared at her, resentful of the criticism, but he did not want to draw unnecessary attention to himself so he continued to eat in what he hoped was a more feminine manner. "You'll have to take care with all your mannerisms," she told him. "They are more likely to give you away than your appearance." As he had seen for himself in the mirror that he did indeed make a convincing girl, Mark didn't doubt her. And, as the last thing he wanted was to be found out, he resolved to study Sarah and learn how to behave.

  After they'd finished their snack, Sarah led the way back to her cabin. "You'll stay here tonight," Sarah told him. Then, seeing the expression of sexual interest flit across his face, coldly added: "As a woman." The Mark of the previous day would have assumed she was simply being a tease and would have tried to force what he saw as a golden opportunity, but it was proving difficult for him to assert his masculinity while wearing a skirt. That simple item of clothing made him feel vulnerable and unsure. In any case, Sarah still held the upper hand and he was quite sure that, if necessary, she would circulate the photos. She handed him a nighty and told him to put it on. Mark stripped off his clothes and pulled the flimsy garment over his head. The silky material slid sensuously over his body bringing goosebumps out on his skin. He shivered, then quickly got into the single bed hoping that Sarah hadn't noticed his peculiar reaction to the garment. From her grin, however, it was apparent that she had. "Like the feel of it, do you?" she taunted, then laughed aloud as he turned his back to her, hiding his flushing cheeks. He heard her undress and climb into bed beside him. It was a situation that he would have given a month's pay to be in only the previous day, but now he carefully kept to his side of the bed and wished for sleep, praying that when he awoke he would discover that it had all been a dream. But the following morning when he opened his eyes and stretched, he was still wearing the nightdress and Sarah was standing beside the bed, watching him. "You had better go and shave," she said, obviously determined to carry out her revenge. "And do your legs and underarms while you're about it." Reluctantly Mark padded barefoot to the small but well-equipped bathroom and did as she demanded. When he returned he was dressed once again in the nightie - it was either that or nothing - but now he noticed the material seemed to brush even more softly against his smooth skin. Sarah had left out some clothes for him, and supervised while he dressed. Then she sat him down on the edge of the bed and began to apply make-up. Fortunately he didn't have heavy beard growth, and so didn't require too much foundation. A little eyeliner, some mascara to accentuate his naturally long eyelashes, some lipstick, and he was ready. A final touch to his hair, then Sarah was satisfied that he looked his best and they both went to the restaurant for breakfast. As the ship was big with a large complement of passangers there was no problem with a new female face suddenly appearing, and Mark was able to relax as he found himself treated as any other passenger. Better, if he were honest. The steward serving coffe had practicalli ignored him so far on the cruise but as he filled Mark's cup he gave a cheery smile. He found the same reaction from other crew members and from passengers too, until he was prompted to comment on the fact to Sarah. It's hardly surprising," she replied drily, "As a man you were so unbearable that no one would want to spend any time with you. But now you feel more vulnerable than arrogant and it makes you much more approachable." Mark began to argue that she was overstating the case, then stopped as he acknowledged that everyone really did seem to be treating him differently. Confident by this stage that he was totally convincing as a woman, he made a determined effort to experiment with his new identity and make friends.

  "Enjoying yourself?" Sarah asked as they returned to her cabin that evening. Her question washed over him like a cold shower, reminding him of the reality of the situation he was in, but he still gave her an honest answer. "I feel like I've been playing at being someone else for a day," he told her, "and yes, I did enjoy it to a certain extent." Sarah looked at him, a shrewd analytical expression on her face. "perhaps it wasn't someone else," she said slowly. "Perhaps it was just the more feminine side of your personality expressing itself for the first time." Mark didn't answer. He could hardly agree with her and admit that not only had he discovered that he did have a strong feminine side, but that it was proving infinitely more appealing than his usual male persona. What would life have been like if he had been born a woman, he wondered, as he curled up beneath the blankets and waited for sleep to come over him. The next morning Mark showered and dressed once more in the clothes Sarah picked out for him. As the sun was shining through the cabin window she decided it would be warm enough for him to wear a summer dress. The one she chose was of a pretty floral pattern. Cut low at the neck, the bodice hugged him closely down to where the full skirt flared out over his hips. The slightest movement caused the soft material to swirl in a teasing caress around his thighs. "How does it feel?" Sarah asked. Had her tone been taunting Mark might have been able to erect enough defences to deny the pleasurable sensations that were coursing through his body. But her friendly interest lacked malice and he was provoked to reply honestly. Mark blushed. "It feels nice," he said in a quiet voice that totally lacked any of its usual brusqueness, "very comfortable." "Skirts are much more practical than trousers in warm weather," she said and told him to sit while she applied his make-up. Soon he was transformed once more into an attractive woman and he felt confident enough to meet the other passengers again. As on the previous day, he chatted happily with the passengers and crew that he met. One of the stewards in particular seemed to find him attractive and made every excuse to come to their table during the evening meal. "You were flirting with him!" Sarah accused later when they were alone. Mark opened his lipstick-coated mouth to deny her words but found that he didn't want to jeopardise their developing friendship by lying. "So waht if I was?" he replied defiantly. "I was just experimenting with my new-found feminine charms." "Totally natural," Sarah assured him, tactfully not reminding him that he was, in fact, still really a man. Mark was silent for several moments. "We're friends, aren't we?" he said suddenly. Unbelievable as it may seem, we are. Although I don't expect it to last once 'Mr Hands Everywhere' returns." The warning was lightly spoken but nonetheless real. "Was I really such a bastard?" he asked. "One of the most unpleasant men I have ever had the misfortune to meet," she confirmed, and Mark winced at the harsh words. He hesitated before speaking again, knowing that what he was about to say could change his life forever. "What if..." he began, then nervously chewed his lower lip before continuing. "What if I was to stay like this for a while longer? I mean what if I did not go back to work immediately we got back?" Sarah raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Are you saying that you want to continue to live as a woman once we get off this ship?" Mark met her stare. He had already said and admitted too much for things to ever be they way they once were. And he was enjoying the way in which people now treated him. As a man he knew that he would never change, he had caused so much ill-will that he would never be allowed to. But as a woman it was like he had been given a second chance. His answer was clear and with no hint of hesitation. "Yes," he said.

China Bill - Bill's Story - Transvestite Fiction

  I am a perfectly normal male, who was married. After a very painful divorce, I was going to China because of business (I speak fluent Chinese). In those days we frequently went in and out through Hong Kong. We had business there. We were introduced to a lovely club, called "Bottoms Up". It was made famous in a James Bond movie. There are 5 bars, each having an octagonal shape, inside is a green platform on which is a nude woman who takes your order and serves you your drink(s). If one becomes a regular (I did!) you can take the girls out and then nature takes its course. In my case I was already in love with Chinese women, and there was one very lovely, but very tall, slender, lady whose name was Christine. She was the most elegant woman I had ever seen, and she was gracious, but she always wore a "privacy shield" between her legs.

The other girls only did this when it was their time of the month. Christine always did. I kept asking her out dancing, to dinner, etc. Finally, after 2 years, she accepted. I was very happy. But some of the regular guys in the place took me aside and told me she was really a "he". I did not believe them, and told them to just be quiet. To myself I said that I really did not care. Well, the evening arrived, and I picked her up at her apartment where she introduced me to her friend, Sophie. Another long tall, slender beauty. We left, went to dinner and then began a night of dancing. Of course Christine was just an outstanding dancer, as am I. We both were having a really great time. Occasionally someone would come up to her and say hello and ask for her autograph which she gave. I was confused, but flattered. Finally it was early in the morning and we headed to her place. On the way she gently fondled me, and brought me to a tremendous climax. I tried to do the same to her, but she pushed my hand away and told me later.

    When we arrived at her place Sophie was gone, with a note saying she was staying with a boyfriend for the night. So we were set. We started to kiss and just totally fell into each other. Christine finally pulled back and excite me in a way I had never experienced. I was desperate to caress her and bring her up to where I was. She gently took off her top and of course I had seen but never touched or kissed her beautiful breasts, but that ended fast. Again, my hand went down between her legs. She pulled back and said she had a surprise for me and did not want to hurt me but she was different. Well, she was. She had an absolutely lovely penis, it was smooth, and long, and not at all fat or ugly. She put my hand on it, and it was the most wonderful thing I had ever felt. She kissed me, and kissed me and I meantime manipulated her just as she was me. I told her I thought she was wonderful and just did not care. She moaned and told me she took a long time to come. I told her I had all the time in the world. We did everything we could think of. It was just heaven. In the afternoon, when we had exhausted ourselves her roommate returned. It turns out Sophie was the same. We had a long talk, and I danced with Sophie. Christine wanted to know if we could all three go out that evening and see what went on. Well I am sure you know the rest. We were a trio for 4 years. They were from Singapore and lovely. They moved back and I have not seen them since. Now for the hard part. In the US I go out and go to clubs, bars etc. in the Washington DC area, mostly in Maryland. One very nice place (now gone unfortunately) was a regular hangout. My Chinese girl friend (a real girl) was always there with me and we knew everyone. My girlfriend went to China to visit Mom and Dad. I kept going to the club. A very tall blond began to come in, and she was always with a large (tall and a little heavy but not much) African American. The two were a set. They were very friendly., and everyone liked them. The big African American Girl had a boy friend who treated her like dirt, but he was white. The blonde, Julia, just was so much fun to be with that I fell a little in love with her.

    On weekends the club had a live band, and Julia loved to dance but no one would dance with her. Finally one night I asked her to dance, she jumped off the bar stool and we began to dance, we did not stop all night. Several times one of my friends got me aside and told me that Julia was really a man. I just looked and said "So what?" and kept on dancing. At the end of the evening I walked Julia to her car, and we began kissing. She was embarrassed because she got hard and so did I. We rubbed each other and both had lovely orgasms. I made a date, kissed her goodnight and went home. She sent me an e-mail the next day telling me she was a "new" tranny and had only just started pills, dressing, and her breasts were still small, and she was undergoing many changes. She also said she wanted to have surgery to become a true female. I immediately asked her to move our date up and we went out to have Sushi. After the Sushi, in the parking lot we again got into a heated and most intimate session. I asked her over to my house. She said she had been waiting for me to ask all evening. We went right home. Julia had the most perfect body, small, but firm and lovely breasts, a very smooth skin, and she is a marvellous kisser! We ended up in bed. She said she probably could not have an orgasm, as she had tried to masturbate and had not achieved a climax. She achieved several that night. Julia was married, and has two lovely daughters. She would bring them with her to the club for dinner, dressed as a woman, and they did not mind at all. They are lovely little ladies, 12 and 14 years old. Julia and I had a lovely relationship. However, the club closed (was sold to another group), and she has dropped her e-mail. I cannot find her, but am still trying. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever met, and I do not care a bit that she has a penis. In fact it is much more fun! I have tried to find places in the area where such ladies go, but have been really unsuccessful. I am a professional, I have normal urges, but much prefer the TV world. The beautiful ladies who are pictured so often, and who seem to be made fun of by others are who I prefer to all others. I will keep looking for Julia, somehow I hope she reads this but that is to long a hope for me to even think of. I will look, and keep it up. I hope to find some place local where the ladies have the same equipment as I do. I do not like men at all, but the lovely ladies with the equipment are just what I love and prefer. Thank you for reading this, and I am now going out and look for Julia again.

A few days ago, I received my new white mackintosh. I tried it on and immediately experienced the heady aroma of fresh rubber. It was a perfect fit, right down to my calves since it had been made to measure. I drew up the hood and tied the strings in a neat bow just below my chin, my blonde shoulder-length hair showing just out of the side and forehead yet cosily tucked in from the elements. Being double-breasted it buttoned up the front and fastened with a buckle belt. I stood admiring my image in the mirror, thrusting my hands into the slit pockets and did a twirl. Having hung the lovely garment on a clothes hanger and read the cleaning instructions, I left it in the bedroom and planned my next step. I have a sympathetic lady friend who knows my secret, so I suggested we take the car to the canal and take a walk along the towpath.

I’ll wear my yellow plastic mac because the weather forecast shows that’s it's going to be a wet day, so we’ll need wellies she said. I wore my green wellingtons and she had on her black pair. I pulled up my hood and snuggled my hands into the inviting rubber-lined pockets. The only thing we passed along the canal was the odd sailing boat or motor launch with their crews clad in oilskins. Beneath my mac I felt the firm control of the basque -corset that gripped my nylon tops tautly and over this, I had on a slip directoire in peach, over which I wore a blue cotton polyester pleated skirt secured with a thick wide black plastic belt, lemon long-sleeved blouse and a headscarf serving as a neck covering.  

This outfit was topped by a roomy long-sleeved bright button cardi that keeps your body completely dry, although there are vents in the mackintosh allowing the garment to breathe. We hardly spoke because we were meditating on the peace and quiet of Mother nature. Later that afternoon we returned to my friends, comfortable new bungalow where I hung my wet mac next to hers. She made us tea after which I changed back to male attire. We might plan another day out in the rain and when we do I’ll let you know.

Emma's Story- A Short Story

Chapter One. The beginning.

The front door opened, in response to my mother’s insistent bell ringing, and she greeted her friend saying ‘Hello Mary. I’m so sorry to trouble you but this young lady was lost and late for her date with Brian, so I brought her around.’ ‘Thanks Jo’ a puzzled Mary replied, whilst looking me up and down, ‘Brian’s having his tea at the moment but who shall I say wants him?’ ‘Emma’ I quietly responded.

Mary departed to return shortly with Brian, at which stage my nerve broke! Turning quickly I departed as fast as I could, with the sound of clicking heels and a rustle of silk around my legs, not daring to look back however much they called out. I needed to get home but couldn’t run without attracting even more attention; besides, high heels and a tight skirt are not ideal for running in!

‘So what?’ you might say. Well at fourteen I was dressed as a woman for the first time, and out tripping around the village to see my best friend who certainly had no a date with me! I’ll explain how this all occurred.

As the eldest son in the family I would join in make believe games that my sister and brothers played to while away the hours. One game we called ‘happy families’, which entailed wearing clothing (over our underwear), retrieved from the wardrobe mum used to store clothes awaiting repair or cascading to a growing generation. This particular evening my sister and I dressed as ‘mother and son’, she in my old school uniform whilst I wore one of mum’s old dresses and a pair of high-heeled shoes. Parading as usual for parental reaction and the customary howls of laughter, the sight produced a twinkle to mum’s eyes.

Later, when alone with mum talking about the earlier fun, she suggested I surprised my best friend Brian by playing a similar joke on him. Whilst not sure what she had in mind, I agreed not realising that she was quite serious.

‘Good’ she said ‘but we need suitable fitting clothes if we are to do this properly. I’ll see what I can find and then come up to my room when I call you’.

The call finally came and I was amazed at the variety of clothing items spread about her bed. Her clothing! She explained that the plan was for me to trick Brian into thinking I was a woman. Naturally I objected, but gently the challenge, thrill and potential risk of exposure persuaded me to change my mind.

Fortunately clothing selection was made easier as mum and I were of similar height. A green and cream checked skirt with long sleeved creamy silk blouse was first selected. A pair of white panties, girdle, long line bra and a full-length underskirt followed, together with seamed nylons and brown high-heeled shoes to complete the attire.

‘Right, time for a quick bath before changing’ mum instructed ‘I have added some scented bath salts to the water, so give yourself a good scrub including under your fingernails and come back here with a towel around you so we can start your transformation’.

Returning, task completed, mum shaped my eyebrows and manicured my fingernails before supervising my getting dressed. Sliding into the tight panties to hide my manhood, the girdle followed and its laces were gradually drawn tightly to bring a feminine shape to my body. The bra completed the outline after each cup had been filled with cotton wool to give me a pair of small but pert breasts. The underskirt followed, with Mum then demonstrating how to carefully roll nylons to avoid snags or ladders before I undertook the task. Finally managing to clip each onto the suspenders, I enjoyed the new elegance and pleasurable sensation the material brought to my legs as I walked.

The metamorphis continued with a light skin lotion and powder make up being applied to my face. Carefully applied soft brown shadow tint, eyeliner and mascara then accentuated my eyes. A dab of cheek blusher and two coats of pale brown lipstick completed the picture, whereupon my hair was brushed and elegantly restyled and a pair of pearl earrings fitted. Finally putting on the blouse and skirt, the latter encasing my body as its buttons fastened up the back, I stepped into the high-heeled shoes- almost falling over in the process.

‘Hmm. Some deportment practice is required before we go out’ mum said ‘meanwhile have a good look at yourself in the mirror!’ The sight of the younger version of my mother staring back at me from the full-length mirror was most electrifying. ‘Turn around and see how you look from each angle’ she said ‘and stop slouching. Stand tall, with your head up and chest out’.

Spending many minutes admiring my new look I couldn’t help thanking mum. ‘Its brilliant. I just can’t believe the change’ I said, not adding how much I enjoyed the growing feelings from within. ‘My new daughter does look better than I could have imagined’ she replied ‘but you really must practice your deportment and walking in heels. You don’t want a broken leg do you?’ Whilst helping tidy up, she instructed and I practised until I gained sufficient confidence for her to decide that it was time to depart before it got too late.

Donning a short coat and scarf we left for Brian’s house, walking arms linked until my confidence increased in my new female role. Just before arriving at Brian’s I realised that I didn’t know what to say or do, but Mum told me to relax as she had everything planned. So we arrived and —-well you know what happened next.

Chapter Two. Developments.

Waiting back at home for mum’s return, I feared what Brian and his mum might have said or done. How could I ever face them again, but apparently neither had recognised me, mum having feigning surprise at the incident, but disappointed that the jape hadn’t gone further.

‘Never mind, there is time to develop your female role’ she said. ‘Some serious training will reduce risk of recognition and expand your skills so that the jape will then ensure its victim doesn’t realise what happened’ ‘But I thought we had finished?’ ‘Not buy a long chalk’ she replied ‘I want one hundred percent effort from now on, otherwise I shall let Brian and your friends know what you have been up to’. Trapped, you bet – but enjoying every minute of being dressed as I was.

So the next few weeks started, albeit with a few ups and downs. Other family members didn’t realise what was happening, but I nearly got caught one night dad arrived home earlier than expected, and my sister almost caught me changing one evening because I had forgotten to lock the bedroom door.

Evenings spent baby-sitting saw me exploring mum’s wardrobe, trying on different skirts, dresses, blouses and underwear. I remember wearing a black strapless bra and matching cami-knickers under a soft cotton skirt and stiff petticoat, failing to create the convincing illusion of full breasts peaking from a gypsy style blouse. Day’s later mum produced the same clothing for me to wear, with an extra petticoat to correct my deportment, saying that she ‘might as well see how my choice was going, as I had so obviously enjoyed wearing them the other evening’. So much me thinking I had carefully put everything away, but she accepted that I needed to experiment to develop my female side.

The following Friday mum advised that as ‘it was the usual evening young people dressed to go out and I should therefore enter into the spirit of the day. She had bought me some new things to wear that were on my bed and I couldn’t wait to get changed into the new lingerie and a long sleeved floral dress. Mum helped me pull the dress fabric close around my waist and fastening the buttons up the back, trapping me in the dress in the process, before producing the ‘piece de resistance’. A shoulder length blond wig, which she combed and arranged on my head to change my appearance yet again before fitting a dangling gold earring to each ear. Nails suitably varnished to match lip colour I stepped into the pair of black high-heeled shoes to complete the picture.

After checking my appearance we returned to the lounge, reading and talking together in front of the fire until 15 minutes later mum rose to answer the doorbell. Before I knew what was happening, she had brought our visitor into the room-Brian! Fortunately I recovered sufficiently to stand up and welcome him.

‘Brian let me introduce my niece Emma. She has been visiting us for a couple of days’ mum said. ‘Emma, look after Brian for a few minutes whilst I go and find Mike?

How could I refuse, as she had left the room before I could answer? After an awkward moment I invited him to sit opposite, noticing that he was smartly dressed. It emerged mum had asked him earlier if he wanted to go with Mike to see the new film at the cinema, as she had got some tickets. He had now come to pick him up, little realising that Mike would not make it, as he was now Emma!

Mum returned saying that Mike couldn’t be found. It would be a pity to miss the film, so why not take me instead! Before I knew what was happening, Brian had agreed and I was being bundled out of the house. ‘Don’t be late dear.’ mum said triumphantly ‘Be back for 10 o’clock. Remember you have to be up early in the morning and need your sleep!’ Give me a light kiss on the cheek she whispered quietly, ‘Good luck, be careful and remember what you have learnt.’ So the jape was on!

The walk to the cinema was uneventful, the film well attended and Brian’s friends chose to sit away from us with their respective girl friends. During the film I felt a hand resting on my knee, but having moved it once or twice I let it rest until a scary scene when Brian’s ‘comforting arm’ slid around my shoulder- remaining there for the rest of the film. Whilst returning home we talked over the film until I put the key in the front door lock. Turning to thank Brian for the evening, he confidently grabbed me around the waist, pressed me against the wall and started to kiss me. I could feel his excitement and pressure of aroused manhood through my dress, but rescue was at hand when the hall lights went on and mum called out ‘Is that you Emma?’ Brian let go and whilst running away he quickly turned to give a cheery ‘Thanks and goodnight’ before disappearing-albeit leaving me slightly dishevelled.

Mum outlined her plans, including care of my new clothes and the need to wash underwear each night ready for the new day. I would wear my new underwear daily under my normal clothes, but when alone I would be fully dressed and made up, so that she could assess my progress. Daily training included deportment, manners, use of voice etc., as I assisted her in practical tasks around the house, including cooking, cleaning and babysitting. Overnight I would abandon pyjamas for a nightdress, matching briefs and padded bra, ensuring my female role developed as I gained my rounded education!

I described to mum how the evening had gone whilst getting undressed into my nightwear and she was well pleased with the result. I was less sure however. Whilst I had enjoyed being treated as a woman and would always remember my first kiss, I doubted that Brian would feel the same way if he ever found out. Inevitably I would hear his version of the events, which naturally varied from mine. As for Emma, who knew what had fate had yet in store for her, but her clothes were returned to mums wardrobe, apart from the nightgown, bra and pants which I was permitted to wear for just one more night.

Chapter Three. A surprise bath!

Next morning I arose early to go fishing with my father in the Lake District. Meeting my uncle by the river, which was close to flooding, we ‘tackled up’ and dispersed to ‘try our luck!’ To this day I don’t understand what happened to me, for one moment I was fishing from the bank and the next swimming for my life. Despite being swept swiftly down stream I managed to reach the bank and scrabble out of the water, completely sodden and shivering, to trudge miserably back to the car knowing that Dad would be none to pleased. His days fishing was ruined and he faced the prospect of returning home so soon after arrival. My uncle came to the rescue suggesting we returned to his house so I could dry out. He would see what he could find for me to wear, and then he and dad could resume fishing for the rest of the day. So fate took charge!

Upon reaching his house, my uncle and aunt could only find some of my cousin’s gym gear for me to wear – a white short-sleeved cotton blouse, blue gym knickers, short dark skirt, white ankle socks and a pair of plimsolls that she had recently grown out of. Obviously an awkward situation, but I really had no choice but to accept as I stood shivering and dripping in front of a roaring fire. Stripping off in a bedroom and towelling dry, I quickly put on the new clothes, handing my aunt the sodden garments to dry in front of the fire. Unbeknowingly in towelling my hair dry it had bushed out it into a more feminine style, but my aunt chose to ignore my appearance and dad and uncle had returned to their fishing.

Cousin Jayne eventually returned from school and, after getting over a fit of giggling at my misfortune, we adjourned to her room to play with a jigsaw. Casually the conversation turned to what I was wearing and she thought that her clothes suited me, although the skirt seemed a little too tight. Would it not be better if I wore one of her old panty girdles and a bra, so that I became more comfortable and the clothes would hang better? In view of my recent experiences I found myself agreeing and within a few minute had change into the selected underwear. Returned to check that all was in order, she commented on the improvement and that the bra was not really noticeable. Brushing a few knots out of my hair she rummaged in her make up bag and produced a pale lipstick. Stopping momentarily to test my reaction, she sensed nothing adverse and proceeded to give each lip a light coat, whereupon we both left to play outside for a while.

Eventually meeting one of her girl friends (who accepted me at face value when Jayne introduced me simply as ‘her cousin’) I was asked my name. ‘Erm’ I said thinking how to explain, but Jayne surprisingly said that I was Emma. So we whiled away a very pleasant afternoon, chatting and walking around the village until teatime when dad and my uncle returned. They were too full of fishing to notice any changes in my appearance, apart from dad commenting that ‘it served me right to be dressed as I was’ clearly thinking it was some kind of punishment!

Returning home later, having travelled in the clothes I had been given as my own were still too wet to wear, mum’s reaction on arrival home was one very much of surprise- Mikes departed and Emma returned. In explaining the circumstances she had to smile, whispering that ‘such is life. Your training obviously stood you in good stead. What more will the future bring?’ Next morning I awoke to find Emma’s clothes had returned to my wardrobe and so my future continued to develop. Life still had plenty of surprises in store for me, not all pleasant.

Emma