From: an3619@anon.penet.fi
Subject: MY STORY
X-Anonymously-To: alt.transgendered
Organization: Anonymous contact service
Date: Fri, 18 Dec 1992 19:33:22 GMT

X-Anon-To: alt.transgendered

Every word of the following story is absolutely true.  I lived it.  I
have never breathed a word of it to anyone and I have never put it
down on paper or in electronic form before today.  PLEASE DO NOT SEND
MAIL, EVEN TO THE ANONYMOUS ADDRESS, as it could compromise my
privacy, due to measures I have taken to protect it.

              MY STORY
              == =====

I started crossdressing at about the age of ten.  My mom and dad
worked and my little brother and sister were much younger than me and
in daycare, so I had ample opportunity.  Mainly I just wore pantyhose
for a few months, then panties and hose, and within a year I was
coming home from school, taking off my boy clothes, and putting on a
bra and panties (I stuffed the bra itself with panties before
discovering cotton balls) immediately.

I would walk around like this for fifteen minutes or so, then I would
put on nylons, high heels (my mom's fit me quite well for a few
years), and a dress or skirt.  I favored a pink bodysuit with ruffles
around the collar, a red plaid skirt and a gray pair of heels.  I also
remember a certain green flower-print bodysuit with puffy short
sleeves that went very well with a certain green knit jumper.  I
always wore a slip, of course.  I did this nearly every day.
Sometimes I would deliberately pull my slip down so it would show just
a little.  I loved that.  We had big mirrors in the house, and I spent
a lot of time in front of them.

I _never_ tried makeup or any of my mom's several wigs when doing this
on my own.  I don't know why, it just didn't occur to me.  I was very
happy to just wear the clothes, I didn't need the total illusion of
femininity.  I never carried a purse around or wore jewelry, either.

Once, I was taking care of a dog for some of our neighbors while they
were on a trip.  I was friends with their son (we were both about 11
at this time).  They had a daughter two or three years younger than
me.  I think you can see where I am going with this!  She was a bit
large for her age, and her clothes fit me perfectly.  I wore all her
"little girl" clothes, and she had a lot.  Little lace ankle socks,
white tights, maryjane shoes, pink dresses with big bows and white
lace, lots of that sort of thing.  I _really_ liked wearing her girl
scout uniform, with the knee socks and "saddle shoes."  I even tried
on shorts and pants, but that wasn't as satisfying.

The family was gone a week and I spent at least two hours a day over
there, walking around in Karen's (the younger sister's) clothes.  I
tried a few of her mom's things on, too, but they didn't fit so well.
She was too big.  They had another daughter, older, but her clothes
were also too big for me.  The only thing she had that I tried on more
than once was a cheerleader uniform.  That was great, but it fit so
poorly I didn't enjoy it as much as I might have.

As I said, I never wore a wig or makeup.  I never attempted to go out,
or to "pass" in public, though I was young and baby-faced enough to
pass as a woman (made-up) or even as a girl if I had wanted to.  Even
much later, when I was 17 or 18 in high school, I was occasionally
mistaken for a girl because I had long hair, even though it wasn't
_that_ long, a bit less than shoulder length.

Then it happened.  When I was 14, I did a lot of babysitting for my
mom's best friend, a 28-year-old divorced woman a few blocks from my
house.  She was _very_ slender and attractive.  I also liked her a
lot, she was just a nice lady.  She had one daughter, two or three
years old.

As I said, I babysat pretty often for her.  Maybe once a week.  Once
her daughter was asleep, out came her clothes!  Her clothes fit me
even better than my mom's, except for the shoes, which were too small
for me.  (By this time, even my mom's shoes were getting tight, I
don't think I could wear them anymore after age 15.)  She had several
bodysuits and skirts that I liked, and a couple of dresses that I
thought looked great on me.

One night, I was dressed in a white turtleneck bodysuit with a short
jean skirt and pantyhose, lying on her bed watching TV.  I decided it
was getting late, and I'd better change.  I took off the jean skirt,
but I liked the look of my legs in the bodysuit and pantyhose so much,
I left it on for "just a little while longer."  Then I fell asleep!
The next thing I knew, she had come home and was shaking me awake!
And there I was in her bodysuit and pantyhose!

"Oh, God.  Mrs. M______!"  I was on the verge of tears.  "I'm so
sorry!  You must think I'm a pervert.  You must be afraid for your
daughter.  Oh, please understand that I never meant any harm."  I
tried hard, barely successfully, to keep from breaking down completely
and sobbing.

She was very compassionate, and calmed me down immediately.  She
noticed that I was doubled over, covering my crotch with my hands,
trying to hide myself (remember, I was wearing just a bodysuit and
pantyhose).  She handed me the jean skirt and told me to "make myself
decent and we can talk about this."  I put it on sheepishly, but left
the slip on the bed.  She handed me the slip and just looked at me.
What could I do?  I put it on, too.  So there I sat in a bodysuit,
jean skirt, pantyhose and with a slip under the skirt.  She must have
known I had on her bra and panties, too.  I felt humiliated, but at
least I was calm now.

She explained that she wasn't shocked, but she was surprised.  She
knew that her daughter was safe with me, and had no regrets about
leaving her in my care.  She said I could still babysit for her, if I
wasn't too uncomfortable.  That had been my main fear, that she would
think I was doing something perverted to her daughter.  That idea
really horrified me, and when I realized it wasn't an issue with her,
I calmed down quite a bit.

I still wasn't comfortable, but I said that I would be glad to babysit
for her, and I would never touch her clothes again.  She said that she
didn't mind all that, but that I must be discreet.  I said I didn't
know how comfortable I would be, but that I would think about it.  She
just said, "You do that, dear."  Then she left me to get dressed and I
went home.  She even paid me (I would _never_ have asked to be paid,
she just did).

I did babysit for her again a few times that spring, and I didn't
touch her clothes.  She never said a word about it, and I just thought
the whole matter was forgotten.

Then, early that summer, when I was off school, my parents were going
away for a week to visit with my dad's parents in Oregon.  I was to
stay on my own (my brother and sister would stay with their daycare
babysitter for the week).  Mrs. M______ was over one day and asked me
what my plans were for that week.  I joked that I was planning a wild
party, then I said that I didn't really have anything planned.  She
said she was just curious.

The day my parents left, she called me and asked if I could come over
and "watch Kimberly for a couple of hours."  I said, sure.  I went
over, and Kimberly wasn't even there.  (It turned out she was at Mrs.
M______'s ex-husband's house.)  She told me that she hoped I still had
no plans for the week, because there were some things she was curious
about, and she knew I was curious about some things too.  I was really
naive, I asked her what she meant.  She told me there was a new
sundress for me upstairs and would I mind wearing it around the house
for the day.

I didn't really like sundresses, but I told her I wouldn't mind doing
it, but that I was afraid my armpit hair would be unattractive.  She
said, "well, we can't have that" and talked me into shaving my legs
and my underarms.  The hair on both was actually pretty slight at that
age, but the freshly shaven feel was wonderful.  I put on panties and
the sundress (no bra) after showering and shaving.  I had _no_ facial
hair at all at this age.  And once again, the hair on my head was just
short of shoulder length.

Then she said I still needed a little "work."  I was getting kind of
scared, but she had been so nice that I went along while she glued on
some false fingernails and painted my fingernails and toenails.  I
admired myself in a mirror and right away I wondered how I could have
avoided trying this all that time.  (I had never shaved or painted my
nails, just like I had never tried makeup or jewelry or a wig.  All
that was about to change.)

Then she told me I was going to need some shoes.  I didn't know what
size I wore, but I told her my mom's shoes were tight but I could
still wear them.  That helped, because she knew what size my mom wore.
She got a rough hand measurement of my feet and went out to buy shoes.
I spent the time she was out waiting for my second coat of nail polish
to dry, both on fingers and toes.  I found out that I was so excited I
had ejaculated and I had to change my panties!  (I tried to hide that
from Mrs. M______ and when she found out, she just chuckled.)

When she came home, she had three pairs of shoes for me, and they all
fit great!  They were all medium heels with open toes to show off my
nail polish.  She also had two "training bras" that were built
"stuffed" so that I would look like I had breasts, even though they
were pretty small breasts.  They were very natural looking, though.  I
was a small kid (around 5 feet 4 inches) so they looked pretty good.
She also had a strapless bra (but that one had to be stuffed with
cotton) so that I could wear it under the sundress I had on.  I went
and put it on.  At that time I noticed that she had put away (hidden,
really) my boy clothes.  I was even more scared, but I was more
excited, too.

When I got back from that, she had the curling iron out and she
trimmed my hair to give me bangs and a nice even curl just above the
shoulder.  It was a really nice job, and it looked very soft and
feminine.  Then she made me up.  It was conservative makeup, but it
looked fabulous!  I didn't feel like a drag queen, I just felt
feminine.  Then she gave me a pair of clip-on earrings, a necklace and
two pretty rings.

"My ex has the baby for the night, and I thought we could go out to a
movie or something," she said.  "It would be a shame to waste all this
effort and just stay in."  I was terrified.  I said no.  She got very
disappointed-looking and said "it would be a shame to have to tell
your parents about this."  I begged her not to.  She was toying with
me now.  I hated her.  She just sighed and said OK, I could go home
then.  She had taken my clothes, my wallet and my keys.  I asked her
for them.  She said that since everyone would know about me by
tomorrow, I shouldn't worry about them seeing me "dressed up" tonight.
"Just go home," she said.  (I lived a few blocks away, as I said.)

I told her she had won.  She pretended, for a minute or two, not to
care.  I thought, with horror, that she was still going to send me
home.  Finally, she said OK, we could go out.  I had been crying, and
my mascara was running.  She said that it might be kind of cool for a
sundress that night (this was early June in a suburb of St. Louis), so
I had better change.  She laid out some pantyhose, one of my new
training bras, a full slip, a new pair of shoes, and a blue belted
dress that zipped up the back and came down to about my mid-thigh.  I
put them on, halfway between tears and anger.  I was starting to feel
that this had gone too far.

When I came back, she was wearing a button-up pink shirt and a pair of
jeans with low heels (she was still two inches taller than me).  She
looked great, but I resented her for making me wear a dress when she
got to wear pants.  I didn't say anything, though.

She helped me fix my makeup, then she put a bunch of makeup and things
in a blue purse for me and thrust it into my hands.  When I looked
down and saw my hands, with long painted nails and feminine jewelry,
holding that purse, and below it my legs sticking out of a dress and
my feet in high-heeled sandals with painted toes, I almost broke down
again.  What had I gotten myself into?  I wasn't enjoying this at all.
Or at least I didn't think I was.

She put some perfume on me, and we were off.  The walk to her car at
the curb was the longest 100 feet of my entire life.  I had never been
outside in broad daylight before, and I was self-conscious as hell.  I
got in the car quickly, she took her time, enjoying every second of my
embarrassment.

We drove downtown.  On the way there, I began to relax a bit.  I
realized slowly that not every car that passed us was slowing down to
stare at me.  In fact, no one seemed to notice.  I began to feel like
I was going to pass just fine.  In retrospect, I realize that I was an
extremely realistic woman, but not so beautiful that I would attract a
lot of attention.  I sure wish I could come even close to passing that
well today.

I was also getting kind of excited.  Not sexually excited (although
that had been true even when I was crying and begging previously), but
excited at the "adventure" I was about to have.

We did go right to a movie.  Fortunately, we didn't have to wait in
line or in the lobby to get in.  We sat near the back, and the theater
wasn't crowded.  I actually forgot for the most part about my
predicament, and relaxed and enjoyed the movie.  Every time I shifted
position and felt my femininity in my clothes and jewelry, I was
reminded briefly, but I managed to put it out of my mind.  I thought I
was really going to make it.

When the movie ended, I had a horrible realization that I hadn't
anticipated.  I had to go to the bathroom.  I wanted to hold it, but I
didn't know whether we were going straight home or not, and I didn't
want to ask.  I whispered to Mrs. M______ that I had to go, and she
giggled and said to go ahead.  She giggled again and told me to fix my
lipstick while I was in there.

I could feel myself blushing underneath my makeup as I walked into the
ladies room.  It was crowded!  I was horrified at the thought that I
would have to wait, but there was one empty stall.  I practically ran
into it, hung my purse on the hook on the door, pulled up my dress,
pulled down my panties and nylons, and sat down to urinate.

Looking underneath the walls into the next stalls, I noticed the
feminine shoes and feet there.  I startled with the realization that
they might be looking at my feet, too, with my nylons and my painted
toes, thinking how feminine or even attractive they were.  This was
the turning point for me.  I fixed myself up, walked out of that
stall, walked straight to the mirror (the bathroom was more crowded
now, there was now a short line to get into the stalls), pulled my
lipstick out of my purse, and touched up my lipstick.  I might have
stood there and attempted to redo all my makeup, I was enjoying myself
so much, and I was encouraged by the fact that none of the women (I
was starting to think of them now as "the _other_ women") so much as
noticed me.  Fortunately I was smart enough to realize that I probably
needed a lot more practice making up before attempting this in public,
so I just crowded my way out of the bathroom.  Mrs. M______ was
waiting for me.

She asked me whether I would mind doing a little shopping (it was only
around 8 p.m.)  I started to say that I wanted to go home, but I
decided not to make any trouble.  Besides, I was feeling more
confident.  We just did a half-hour or so of window shopping, then we
went to the car.  We stopped at a fast food restaurant on the way
home, we both went in but she ordered.  Then we took the food home.

Once we got to her house, I went upstairs and, without even asking,
took off my shoes and put on a pair of her fuzzy pink slippers that
stretched enough for my feet.  When I came back down, she was watching
TV.  She noticed the pink slippers and sort of smiled, but didn't say
anything.  We sat next to each other on the couch, talking and
watching TV for a couple of hours.  I said I actually kind of had fun,
but that I had better be getting home.  She got a bit cold all of a
sudden.  She just said, "You're welcome to leave any time, but I
thought you said you had no plans this week."  She made no indication
that she was going to give me my clothes back.

That was too much.  By now I was overjoyed at the prospect.  I was
really looking forward to being her "girlfriend" for the week, and I
said yes.

I told her that I didn't want Kimberly (her daughter) to "see me like
this," though, and she agreed.  She said that she had to get her back
Sunday night (this was a Saturday), keep her Monday through Thursday,
but that her ex-husband and his new wife would get her on Friday until
my parents came home.  She said that since Kimberly would be in
daycare Monday through Thursday while she was at work, I could just
keep out of sight in the morning and early evening when she was up and
about.

We set a few other ground rules about me staying in her house for the
week (I won't bore you with the details), then we went up to bed.  I
picked out, without even asking, a plain blue nightshirt and panty
set, but she put it away and made me wear a really lacy pink teddy to
bed.

I won't go into really explicit details, but that night she told me
what a "good girl" I had been on my first day, and she "rewarded" me
in bed.  It wasn't quite my first time, but there's never been one
like it since.

The next day, she made me wear her shortest short dress.  I told her I
wasn't ready for something that short, and I secretly loved it when
she threatened to kick me out of her house, wearing women's clothes,
to just go home.  Finally, I gave in and put it on.

I remember it was light blue with big flowers and lots of little
buttons down the front.  I wore a very short pink full slip that
showed just a little bit in back.  Mrs. M______ ("Debbie," by now)
thought I didn't notice, but I did.  I just didn't want to fix it.  I
wore the highest pair of heels she had bought me (about 3 inches), and
she gave me a white purse to carry.  This time, I helped with my own
hair and makeup, and we spent the whole day shopping, mostly for
clothes.  I must have tried on fifty dresses and skirts that day.
Once, I started to try on a pair of pants, and she made me put them
back, telling me I wasn't _allowed_ to wear pants!  Of course, she was
wearing pants herself.  I was really starting to resent that.

The high point of that Sunday came in the dressing rooms.  The
curtains, as you all know, don't quite close all the way, and I got
frequent glimpses of women in bras and panties, trying on clothes.
This didn't thrill me so much because I wanted to see women in their
underwear, but because it made me feel so much like one of the girls,
that I was "allowed" into this place.  I also knew that they were
glimpsing _me_ in _my_ bra and panties when they walked by _my_ stall.
In fact, I deliberately left a couple of extra inches open when I
closed the curtain.

In two of the stores, Debbie disappeared for a little while, then
returned with a couple of new purchases.  "Surprises," she explained.
I couldn't wait.  She also bought me a couple of dresses and skirts
that we had both tried on and that fit us both.  She wanted to take me
into a women's shoe store (the kind where a salesman helps fit the
shoes), but I talked her out of that because the dress I was wearing
was _so_ short!  She said she'd let me out of that "for the moment,"
but I had to eat dinner with her in a restaurant!  I was feeling
really self-conscious now, and I was scared to have to talk to someone
(I had avoided that so far), but we had practiced my "girl" voice and
she convinced me I could do all right.

We ate at a 24-hour coffee shop-type chain restaurant.  I did fine,
because the waitress (an older woman) didn't bat an eye when I
ordered.  I remember that I thought for a minute that I had been found
out when I caught a couple of different men staring.  It turned out
they were just admiring my legs!  I can't express how that made me
feel.  I also remember that I went to the bathroom in that restaurant
and it felt totally natural to go to the ladies' room, go to the
bathroom, fix my makeup a bit, and come right back out.  I was really
starting to have fun, and the nervousness was wearing off.  I really
felt like a girl!

She took me home that night, and I stayed in her room while she picked
up her daughter and put her to bed.  While she was gone, I peeked at
my "surprise."  It was a lacy garter and bra set!  There was also a
pair of spiked heels, just my size.  I put it all on and waited for
Debbie to finish up and come to her room.  When she did, and I showed
her that I was waiting, she wasn't happy.  In fact, she was angry.
She said that I was a "bad girl," and that I shouldn't get into things
without permission.  I said I was sorry, but she walked out the door.
I was totally confused.  Things had been going so well!

She came back in just a minute.  She had some "restraints" (just soft
ropes, really) and she bound me with them and "punished" me.  I was
really scared, because she seemed so different!  I got a pretty hard
spanking, and some other "punishments."  I was so naive, I still
didn't realize it was all a game until it was over.  I was shaking and
confused, but also thrilled beyond belief!  I never wanted this to
end.

The next day was Monday.  I spent it just milling around the house
while Debbie was at work, cleaning up a bit, making myself lunch,
watching a little TV, trying on a few clothes.  Debbie had told me I
could wear whatever I wanted, but no pants.  I didn't want to be
"punished" again, so I obeyed.

She came home from work a bit early and said she was going to get an
hour or so of sun before picking Kimberly up from daycare.  She asked
would I join her.  I said yes, because she had an enclosed back patio
and was near the top of a hill, so there was no one above to see in.
She gave me a bikini to wear and put one on herself, and we went out
and got about 45 minutes of sun.  I was a little worried about the
unusual tan lines (for a boy!) this would cause, but it turned out I
was able to keep them hidden until they faded completely.  Once she
went to get Kimberly, I got dressed in a blouse and skirt and waited
in her room for Kimberly's bedtime.  After Kimberly went to bed, I
made dinner for us.  Then I cleaned up and did the dishes while Debbie
watched me.

Tuesday morning, Debbie got me up early and told me to shave and get
made up because I was going downtown with her.  I got a shower and
shaved my legs and underarms while she took Kimberly to her daycare.
I was doing my best to apply a bit of makeup when she came home and
helped me finish my makeup and hair.  I was wearing the stockings and
garters she had given me (but not the matching bra, because I needed
my "training" bra) underneath a pleated skirt and white blouse.  The
feel of the half slip I wore against my silky panties was wonderful.

We left the house and arrived downtown.  Debbie said she had to go to
work, and that I should meet her at the car at 4:30.  "But what am I
supposed to do?" I asked, feeling self-conscious again.  I wasn't sure
I could sustain the illusion for an eight hour day.  "Whatever you
want," she said, slipping $50 into my purse.  "I'll just see you here
at 4:30."

This was a wonderful day.  I soon forgot my self-consciousness and
spent the day as a natural young woman.  I went to the library, sat
and read in a park, got and ate lunch, and did some shopping.  I went
clothes shopping on my own, too.  This time, when I left the dressing
room curtain a little bit open, it was an extra thrill knowing that
anyone who got a glimpse of me undressed was seeing my stockings and
garter belt, too!  I almost went into a shoe store, but I couldn't
quite work up the nerve.

I remember, too, that this was the day that a saleswoman approached me
in a clothing store and told me my slip was showing.  I smiled and
thanked her, and went into the dressing rooms to fix my slip.  That
was a great feeling.

Wednesday and Thursday were pretty much the same and I even went into
a shoe store and tried on heels while the salesman (a kid not much
older than me) helped me out.  I gave him a couple of glimpses of some
extra thigh, and he visibly reacted!  I think he was on the verge of
asking me out, but he probably thought I was older than him and
changed his mind.  Good thing, too, because I might have said yes!

By the way, all of these days Debbie wore pants suits to work.  I
don't remember what I wore that Wednesday, but on Thursday I wore the
sundress she had initially dressed me in.  (She had gotten me a new
pair of thong sandals that really showed off my painted toenails.)
She never let me wear pants, not even shorts, and told me several
times that I was to wear only skirts and dresses.  I hadn't seen her
wear a skirt or dress since we had started.

Friday morning, she dropped Kimberly off and said that she was gone
for the weekend, because her father (Debbie's ex) would pick her up
from daycare that night and keep her for the weekend.  She asked me if
I would like to go on a double date that night.  She said it was as
good as lined up if I wanted to do it.  That was too much, and I told
her so.  I must have been really agitated, because she backed off
immediately.  She said I didn't have to, she could call it off, and
we'd just go dancing instead.  I said OK.  Then we went downtown, but
she only worked half a day, so we spent the afternoon clothes shopping
and getting some lunch.

That night, I wore a black bodysuit and a tight red miniskirt (my
waist was quite narrow, and I had kind of a bony body, so my hips were
convincing enough to get away with this) and black pantyhose.  I had
on my sandals, but Debbie told me to get out of them and wear the
spiked heels she had gotten me.  I felt we were really pushing the
edge, but then I realized that she was wearing a dress herself (!) and
her heels were almost as high as mine.  I said OK.

We went to two or three clubs and got asked to dance quite a bit.  I
almost fainted from fear the first few times, but thank god none of
the guys wanted to talk or buy us drinks or anything.  They'd just ask
to dance, we'd dance a couple of numbers and then they'd thank us and
say goodbye. I got asked my name a couple of times, and I said it was
Karen, after the neighbor girl whose clothes I had worn when playing
"little girl dress up" all those times.  From then on out, Debbie went
out of her way to call me "Karen" every chance she got.  I don't think
she ever used my given name again.

Once some guy who was a bit drunk invited himself to sit down with us
and soon put his hand on my knee.  I pushed his hand away gently, and
he put it back, farther up my thigh.  I was really scared, but I
considered putting his hand in my crotch and giving him the shock of
his life.  Instead, some of his friends came and rescued us "damsels
in distress" and took him back to his own table.  They apologized to
us, and especially to me.

We called it an early evening and went home and just "necked" on the
couch for a long time.  It was unbelievable, two "girls" in their
miniskirts, pantyhose and heels rubbing together, rolling around and
kissing and fondling each other.  When we had sex later that night, it
was almost anticlimactic.  Almost.

Saturday morning, we went to a coffee shop and ate breakfast.  This
time, Debbie let me wear pink shorts and a yellow top with spaghetti
straps.  (I had to wear my strapless bra.)  I remember I wore color
coordinated yellow ankle socks and white sneakers (which were tight,
because they were Debbie's, but they were large on her so they were
wearable).  She wore _my_ sundress (from that first day) and thong
sandals (which were adjustable)!  After the coffee shop, we went home
and switched clothes, even panties!  (I kept wearing the strapless
bra, of course.)

We had gone all week without seeing or talking to anyone either of us
had known (except for her at work).  When we got downtown (for more
clothes shopping), we ran into two of her (female) friends from work!
I was mortified.  Now the pressure was on, because I didn't want
people at Debbie's work to know what we were doing.  Debbie just
introduced me as her "cousin Karen" (she said it the French way, for
some reason, "cousine") and I said a polite hello and just stood there
quietly waiting for the conversation to end so we could go.

To my horror and delight, one of the friends, Anna, suggested we join
them in their shopping.  Debbie of course agreed instantly.  One of
them was setting up house and the other had to buy a couple of wedding
and shower presents, so we went shopping for kitchen stuff together.
I didn't have to talk much, but I was included in the conversations.
Debbie shot me occasional gleeful looks, she was really enjoying my
new predicament.  For a while, I suspected she had planned it, but I
now think I was wrong.  I relaxed a bit and I was OK when we had to go
with them to try on dresses for the wedding and shower.  Of course,
Debbie and I tried things on, too.

Then Debbie suggested we all go out that night to see a movie or
something.  I was mad that she did this, but also very very excited.
One of the friends suggested dinner first, we arranged to meet later
and we all went our separate ways.  Debbie and I didn't even discuss
it.  We just went home and got ready.  She dressed me in a white lacy
blouse and blue pleated skirt.  I also wore my stockings and garters
again, with my strap sandals from that first day.  Debbie wore her
short minidress that she had made me wear that Sunday.  I really
looked forward to this, though I was still a bit scared.

We met at a fairly nice restaurant and took our time eating.  I wasn't
required to talk too much, and I was completely successful when I did.
I knew I looked perfect, because Debbie and I had gotten pretty good
with my makeup and hair, and I was quite confident by now.  I really
felt pretty, and very feminine.

We went to the movie (this time we had to stand in line quite a while,
then wait in the crowded lobby pressed up against each other and some
strangers) and enjoyed it quite a bit.  Then we went for a drink at a
little bar one of the other women knew.  It too was pretty crowded,
and I waited in line for 20 minutes to use the ladies room.  I was
pretty mad that all the men were just going straight in to theirs and
coming right out.  I had to laugh at myself just a bit.

It was a pretty late evening, and when we got home, I just crashed on
the bed fully dressed, though I took off my shoes.

The next afternoon, my parents were returning, so the next morning was
spent undoing my nails (those glue-on nails are tough to get off even
with the remover) and getting all my makeup washed off.  We "unfixed"
my hair (had to trim the bangs a bit, because they were so curly).
Finally, Debbie gave me my original "boy" clothes back (but she kept
my underwear and told me I had to wear panties home--she said to
consider myself lucky she let me wear pants at all).

I had, as I mentioned, some pretty unusual tan lines for a boy, from
the strapped dresses and top I had worn, and from the day in the
bikini and another day in a one-piece bathing suit (that I didn't
mention before).  I managed to keep covered enough for over a month
that I got away with this.  No one ever noticed my missing leg or
armpit hair, and it grew back (such as it was) fairly soon anyway.

I kept babysitting for Debbie, and when Kimberly went to sleep, I
would find that a set of clothes - different every time - had been
laid out for me in her room.  I put them on and just stayed there in
her room until she came home.  It was great.

Once in a long while after that wonderful week, Debbie would call me
up and ask if I could spend a Saturday or something with her (always
on weekends or holidays when Kimberly was with her dad).  We both knew
what this meant, of course, and I made it as often as I could.  The
frequency grew less and less (and I grew taller and taller, sad to
say, I'm 5-10 today and probably too big to pass well).

We never really said goodbye.  I was away at college when she moved to
another city.  My mom kept in touch with her, but I didn't talk to her
again for seven years.  It was this year, my mom invited her to my
wedding in Seattle (yes, I am heterosexual, and yes, my wife likes to
"play"), I saw her for the first time in all that time at the
rehearsal dinner.  She still looks great, she's still single.  She
showed me pictures of Kimberly, who is growing up very pretty.

She never said a word about our adventures together.  She never even
gave me a knowing glance or anything, and I wasn't about to do it to
her.  However, there was one little reference.  It came as the party
was breaking up and everyone was saying good night.  There was a lot
of confusion, and a lot of noise.  I don't think anyone even noticed
when she gave me a friendly but solid kiss on the lips and said in a
normal tone of voice that could have been heard by anyone, "Good
night, Karen."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
To find out more about the anon service, send mail to help@anon.penet.fi.
Due to the double-blind system, any replies to this message will be anonymized,
and an anonymous id will be allocated automatically. You have been warned.