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Nov 201520

The Perils of Peeing

It's the one big dilemma facing every TV going out amongst the public  - peeing - what to do if you get caught short? You may look totally convincing in your smart blue two piece and your neat town shoes. Nobody but the occasional admiring male may be giving you even a passing glance. But are you really sure you will pass the test in the ultimate taboo - the ladies! It's the biggest risk you can ever take, because there, you have the most to lose. Out in the street you may be smiled at if you're read, or jeered at if you get too close to a gang of lads, but in the ladies it could be even worse. You could get yourself arrested. The problem for most TVs is that they just don't know what to expect. When you're brought up to frequent the quietness of the gents, the unabashed behaviour next door can be something of a shock. Men don't talk to each other in toilets, they're generally too scared that any sign of human contact could be misinterpreted. Sit down for a contemplation and you have no fear of the guy in the cubicle next to you suddenly starting up a conversation. We just don't do that kind of thing, but many women do. They don't have the same hang-ups as men, you don't hear wild stories of women hanging around public toilets picking up young girls, so no one is suspicious when they behave as normally in the cubicle as they would outside. If there's no paper and they can't find any in their bag, they may well call across to you, sitting demurely a couple of feet away, to ask you if you've got any. If you have you can push it under the barrier, but if you haven't, what do you do? Is your voice, on its own and divorced from your feminine looks, really good enough to pass. Not many TVs would survive such a test. But TVs, like anybody else, often don't think of the consequences or of what might happen unexpectedly. Being arrested in a dress for causing a breach of the peace is so bad a nightmare they prefer just not to think about it. They'll even use the ladies just for the thrill of it, and some have come very unstuck. A friend of mine, a very convincing TV we always thought, got arrested on the motorway services at Charnock Richard and came close to suicide when he realised he would have to appear in court. Luckily, he was so far from his home that his family never found out, and the magistrate merely bound him over to keep the peace for a year. The whole business took him months to get over though, and it's just not worth the risk. Of course, if you do get caught short then you do have a problem. You can hardly use the gents, and it's too risky to use the ladies, so what do you do to avoid wet knickers? The answer lies in that relatively new arrival on the toilet scene - the disabled person's loo. This is usually unisex, and only takes one person at a time, so no one's going to strike up an unwanted conversation. You can just nip in, do your essentials, and nip out again, a woman for all the world to see. So next time you're out on the town, take care. Stay away from the temptation of the toilets. You know it makes sense.

Nov 201520

High Heels and Shoes

how to guides
Deciding what shoes to wear is a dilemma for most transvestites. We take a closer look at what is available and what is the right heel for the right occasion. Men tend to have big, broad feet which they plant firmly on the ground when they walk. Women, on the other hand, have narrow, delicate feet and they walk with short step, their weight thrown forward onto their toes. There is little a transvestite can do about the shape or size of his feet, but if he seriously wishes to be accepted as a woman he must at least learn to walk like one, which is difficult in poorly fitting shoes. Fortunately, the problem has been recognised by TV specialists and shoe manufacturers, and there is now a wide range of feminine footwear intended for masculine use. Of course, there is a small price to pay for such specialisation, but true elegance never came cheaply. In trying to disguise the size and shape of the masculine foot the designer will subtly alter the proportions of the shoe: Extremely high heels make the foot appear shorter, and a narrower effect can be achieved by subtle curves and delicate strapping. Long pointed toes also have a narrowing effect, but provide a daunting challenge for the walker! Before venturing out in shoes of extreme design the wise transvestite will put in months of practice. It will result in aching calf muscles and blistered heels but to the dedicated TV no amount of suffering is too great if it achieves the desired objective. high1.jpgShoes can make or break an outfit so always be very selective with your footwear! Stilettos should not be the only items to adorn your feet. Very few women wear high heels all the time, but they are a must for any special occasion or for an extra-sexy look. A smaller heel, usually 2" to 3" is far more practical and comfortable. They are easier to walk in, do not cramp the foot and look nice with skirts and dresses. Lower-heeled shoes do not have to look 'frumpy' - there are numerous styles, colours and toe-shapes available. If you choose something to complement your outfit, you can be stylish without high heels. A completely flat-soled shoe is only recommended for younger TVs (say 18-28) or the more mature (55-60+). To look feminine they must be worn with very soft and flimsy dresses or skirts. For and Against Stilettos For: Legs look more shapely and sexier Feet look smaller Walking tends to be with smaller steps, and more delicate Against: They make you much taller! Deportment must be practiced before venturing out in them They emphasise the calf muscles

Nov 201520

Wig Selection

how to guides

Wig Selection As a general guide ensure that your wig does not arrive before you do. In other words it should be part of your total 'look' rather than dominate it.

Avoid extreme styles and ensure the colour is within two shades of what 'Mother Nature' chose for you. Do not be tempted to go for an expensive 'real hair', they are much harder to look after and almost immediately lose their style. When you select your wig be guided by your personality type, figure, height, face shape etc, and remember that ideally your head should be (or at least appear to be) one-seventh the length of your body and your hairstyle can either create or destroy this illusion of near perfection. For example:   A rounded hairstyle is most flattering to a fuller figure, but if the face like the figure is full, the wig style should not be so rounded. If in addition the person is on the short side, a very short style will tend to lead to a dumpy appearance.   A style smaller at the crown, fuller at the bottom (triangular-shaped) will create the illusion of more height, making the short neck appear longer and drawing the eye up to the face. Ideal for the small TV.   A longer hairstyle - anywhere from the top of the shoulders to the middle back - draws the eye down, which is ideal for the taller amongst us who must avoid the small, sleek head which has the visual effect of a long 'T' without the horizontal bar at the top.   If you are built along horizontal lines - broad shoulders and hips - a short, full hairstyle with upturned ends draws the eye away from those wide, 'big-boned' lines and up to and past the cheekbones.   A long neck appears shorter, more rounded when hair is worn long with soft lines and fullness.   A square, heavy-set face needs a hairstyle with height and curvy waves that will break the square lines.   A high forehead looks most attractive with fluffy trails swept to the side.   A thin, sharp-featured face asks for a rounded hairstyle with fullness at the sides.   A double chin appears less noticeable when hair is carried forward on the face, rather than swept tightly back.   A long prominent nose is balanced, brought into proportion by gathering hair at the back of the head with a cluster of curls.   Styles to suit your features   Prominent Nose Fullness of hair on top and width at the temples makes a large or long nose seem more delicate from the front view. In profile the nose is shortened when hair projects up and forward in a high, puffy style. Keep the back of the head full and rounded, the ends long enough to cover the neck. Avoid both straight lines and tight curls.   Diamond-shaped Face Fullness of hair on top and width at the temples makes a large or long nose seem more delicate from the front view. In profile the nose is shortened when hair projects up and forward in a high, puffy style. Keep the back of the head full and rounded, the ends long enough to cover the neck. Avoid both straight lines and tight curls.   Square Face Soften any sharp angles and slim the width by wearing the hair shorter or longer than chin length, with a wave or curl coming in at the cheekbone. The height at the crown and a dipping side also helps.   Round Face To counteract roundness, you'll want to wear your hair smooth at the sides, curved in towards the face at about the chin line. Create height at the crown and some fullness a little below the ears. Choose a side rather than a centre parting which has a broadening tendency.   Heart-shaped Face This face has a piquant charm. If you have a pretty chin, feature it by keeping the chin line clean. If, however, your chin is too pointed, keep the hair smooth on top - close at the temples - and make the fullness start below the ears.   Oval Face If you have an oval face and your features are also regular, you can wear just about any hairstyle.   Pear-shaped Face Height in front will balance the wide jaw and narrow forehead. Width should start at the jaw line and move up to the temples. A diagonal parting slanting out from centre to side makes the head appear wider.   Long Face Here, your aim is to cut the length of your face and add width at the sides. Keep some fullness at the crown. Hair worn over the forehead dipping to the side in an irregular line is good camouflage.

Nov 201520

Easy Manicure

how to guides

Easy Manicure

Many TVs ignore their hands, and yet they are one of the areas where the difference between male and female can really show. So, if you want to be convincing and passable you need to develop a manicure routine - this guide will show you how!

Before you begin, remove all jewellery and get together all the things you will need: Towel Bowl Warm water or olive oil Emery Board Oily polish remover Base coat / ridge filler Coloured nail varnish Polish sealer / clear varnish Cotton wool Orange stick Cuticle remover / conditioner Moisturising cream Okay, now you're all organised - this what you do... 1. Remove any old polish with cotton wool dampened with oily polish remover. For hard to reach corners, use a cotton-tipped orange stick dipped in remover.   2. Make sure your nails are dry before filing them with an emery board. The most fashionable and the least vulnerable shape is the slightly squared oval - a shape that looks sensational on most hands, regardless of the nail length. File with the most abrasive side of your emery board from left to centre, and then from right to centre, smoothing edges with the finer side of the board.   3. Your nails will look longer and more graceful when cuticles are kept moisturised and free of excess tissue. Instead of cutting the cuticle - which can harm the nail - apply a creamy conditioner and then soak in warm water to gently soften the tissue. Use the orange stick to ease the cuticle back.   4. Instead of always soaking your nails in water, give your hands a sumptuous hot oil treatment. A few minutes soaking in olive oil allows the natural oils to penetrate the nail area. Then, scrub nails with a soft brush and dry with a soft towel.   5. Now you're ready to buff. Regular buffing stimulates circulation, strengthens nails and helps prevent splitting and peeling. Remember to buff in one direction to avoid overheating your nails. A nail shiner will restore a natural lustre to your fingertips if you choose to go without nail polish.   6. Tiny ridges and nicks in the nails can spoil any manicure. Before applying polish use the nail primer, a ridge-filling base coat that smooths the nail surface so that polish glides on easily. Brush on 2 coats for extra protection and allow a minute of drying before applying nail enamel.   7. Use 3 smooth strokes to polish each nail, beginning in the centre. Start your second coat when the last nail is finished.   8. To seal your manicure and add extra shine, apply a polish sealer over the enamel and under the nail edge to prevent chipping.   9. No one likes to sit and wait for nails to dry completely. If you're on the run, get yourself a can of quick dry to protect newly polished nails from smudges and smears.   10. For follow-up care during the week apply an extra coat of polish sealer. Also treat your hands and nails to regular rubbing in of a good moisturising cream which will guard against dryness and brittleness, in addition to making your hands feel soft and beautiful.   man2.jpgHandy Hints for Hands and Nails Apply generous amounts of hand cream before going out in cold weather, and before bed Carry an emery board with you at all times Make a habit of pushing your cuticles back with the towel every time you wash your hands Take a mineral supplememnt if white spots regularly appear as this indicates a shortage of zinc Weak or brittle nails can indicate a lack of calcium, so either drink more milk or take a supplement Apply a special white nail pencil under tips of nails for a clean manicured look

Nov 201520

Easy Pedicure

frequently asked questions, how to guides

Transgender Resources

Easy Pedicure

Smooth, feminine looking feet are an absolute must in the warm weather when sandals are worn. Giving yourself a pedicure at home is not nearly as complicated as you might think. Here is an easy step-by-step proceedure that guarantees gorgeous toes. You will need the following items (as for the manicure): Towel Bowl Warm water or olive oil Emery Board Oily polish remover Base coat / ridge filler Coloured nail varnish Polish sealer / clear varnish Cotton wool Orange stick Cuticle remover / conditioner moisturising cream In addition you will need toe dividers, a pumice stone and nail clipper. 1. Begin by clipping each toenail straight across with your nail clipper. File each nail lightly with an emery board until nice and even.   2. Now soak your feet in warm water for 10 to 15 minutes. Pat them just dry enough so water doesn't drip, and apply cuticle conditioner to each nail base, gently pushing back with an orange stick.   3. If corns and hard skin are a problem, try using a pumice stone on these rough area while feet are still moist. After scrubbing the soles of your feet and the rough spots around each toe, apply a good moisturising cream to the entire foot and between each toe. Clean nail surface with a cotton tipped orange stick dipped in remover.   4. Polished toenails give feet a lovely feminine look. First, place toe dividers between toes. Apply your basecoat, remembering to let it dry on each nail for about one minute.   5. Polish your toenails carefully with the same colour you have on your fingernails or a similar shade. You can then apply your polish sealer and quick dry, making sure polish is completely dry before removing the toe dividers.   Handy Hints for Feminine feet Soak nightly if possible ensuring you dry feet thoroughly - especially between the toes - and then massage in moisturising cream Use a nail brush to keep toe nails clean Never shape nails, always cut straight across to avoid ingrowing toe nails If you have sweaty feet put talcum powder in your shoes or stockings, or use a proprietry foot spray Go barefoot as often as possible (I'm famous for it!) Buy correctly fitting leather shoes which give and allow your feet to breathe (unlike cheap synthetic materials) Never try to apply polish without using toe dividers - it will smudge every time Like the manicure, your pedicure can be done in about 30 minutes each week. Once you've invested in the necessary tools and products you'll find that your at-home 'beauty night' will keep you looking and feeling terrific!

Nov 201520

Helen's Story

short story
Well where do we start? With the Victorian father who was an out and out bully? With the time spent in childrens homes or with the closeness of a mothers love? All of them are there but I prefer to look at the girl in me as a result of all this. A brief example of some of my experiences: An 11 year old very confused boy who would play games of dressing up with his sister, feeling the sexual arousal of the feminine garments about me. Being found out by the elder sister (they were her clothes) and then going further into the closet. What a common answer this is to our situation. The clothes in those days (the 1950s) were what I consider still to be the most feminine of clothse. I loved them then and still do. The stockings, the bra, the slip and those fabulous skirts! I was the kind of boy who had friends, who played boy games and enjoyed them (I still do) but at the end of the day found solitude, pleasure and excitement dressed as the beautiful princess waiting for her knight to rescue her from the dungeon of her life. Unfortunately I still wait, my cries go unanswered. If he does not have a horse, a car would do or maybe I can sit on the handlebars of his bike (I wont be singing Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head - I cannot sing to save my life). But the dungeon is cold and bare. Where for art thou Romeo? I remember getting to 15 and 16 and waiting for everyone to leave the house, claiming pressure of homework for not going with them, but as soon as they left transporting myself to that tower (attic which was my bedroom) in the castle. Mother would have bagged her and my sisters 'out of season' clothes and left them there. I would rummage through them - my favourite being this delightful silk Chinese style dress. It had this pretty floral pattern and was knee length. I was so angry when mother got rid of it and I might add Stephanie I never saw one in any of your shops. I have loved asian (Indian and Chinese especially) clothes ever since. I get to 30 and I'm still in that closet. One day I have to go to London on business. I call in at the shop, have a swift look round and I run for it. What am I doing, perhaps a beer will help? It doesn't, I stay at the bar. I have just come through a spell of drinking to get through life and it does not help the problem - there is still the next day. The next time I go to London I call again and now start to talk to the girls there. Aren't they sweet? I am enticed to try it and I flatly refuse to be beaten. The coffee, the look through the book, the decision, the climb up the stairs and here I am dressed up to the nines talking to women like me about normal everyday things. The only thing missing was that knight in shining armour. I used to go back there often and those four hours take the pressure off, I can relax and be myself. I come out a new refreshed person ready for the new day. One day I have to go to Newcastle and decide to visit the shop there. Horrors - around the corner is a womens boutique also with Transformations in the title and yes I go in and ask for my transformation. I am not sure who was more horrified. I never saw that shop again - perhaps they changed the name! I dont know. But here was the difference: I left, laughed and went on to the right place and had a ball with the girls. This is me getting it off my chest. I now live abroad and I have gone back into my closet and at times get very frustrated. Shall I tell you about the time I walked out dressed and got caught by the next door neighbour? Or about the video camera I use to check my walk, my presentation, and to remind me of the good times. Perhaps, but that had better be saved for the next time... All my love, Helen (New Zealand)

Nov 201520

Charlene's Story

short story

Charlene's Story

  As may be obvious to any TV, writing on this most sensitive of subjects is not an easy matter. I have decided to do so in an attempt to reassure those of you who think that what you are and what you do is 'freakish' or 'weird'. My story will, I hope, enable you to see that transvestism is part of what you are and that you are not the only guy who likes to dress in feminine clothing. It doesn't matter whether you are a person who dresses and acts entirely as a woman, or like me, happens to enjoy wearing lingerie alone.   I first became aware that I was attracted to the idea of wearing lingerie when, in my early teens, my older brother was married. As money was short, the newly wed couple lived at my parents' house until they could afford a home of their own. During this time, although I was aware of my fascination with female underwear, my actions in this area were confined to looking at pictures of models in catalogues and magazines. This is as far as I expected to get with what I initially thought of as a shameful and disgusting habit. The thing that I hadn't considered in this was that although I didn't realise it, the feelings of pleasure I got from imagining myself wearing the pretty underwear that these women were modelling, were a part of me. It wasn't too long before the inevitable occurred and I was left alone in the house. Although I was apprehensive as to the possible consequences, I still couldn't resist going into my brother and sister-in-law's bedroom to see what kind of underwear she liked. I couldn't have been more surprised, in fact, when on looking through the wardrobe, I came across a couple of drawers full of my favourite sorts of lingerie.   I couldn't believe it! Right before my eyes were all sorts of lacy goodies bras, panties, suspender belts, French knickers and so on, in a variety of colours and styles. Scattered around these beautiful things were a number of pairs of stockings, ranging from tarty black fishnets to pretty white lace-tops. Why I wasn't caught touching and feeling these undies, I'll never know, because while I was there I couldn't think of anything else. (That, I must say, has always been a major element of the fascination I have with women's underwear. Some of my female friends who know other TVs have said that this is a common phenomenon. Men's underwear, with the exception, I think, of silk boxer shorts just cannot compare with lingerie for tactile sensation.) To cut a long story short, I took every opportunity to go into my sister-in-law's underwear drawers after that. Inevitably though, it wasn't long before looking and touching weren't enough. I remember taking a conscious decision one day, that as soon as I got the chance, I would try on some of the lingerie, to see what it was like. Soon enough the day came when I was on my own in the house. Everyone else would be away for several hours so it was the ideal opportunity to actually do what I had only previously thought of doing. I recall creeping into the bedroom feeling very nervous, even though I knew that nobody would be in the house but me, and that everyone else would be out for ages. I found my breathing was getting difficult and my hands were trembling with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. I pulled open the drawer and picked out a red and black suspender belt, matching panties and a pair of stockings. Quickly I went back to my own room with my stolen treasures and proceeded to strip off, prior to putting on, at long last, the first lingerie I had ever tried.   From all those magazine pictures I knew that one put on the stockings and the suspenders first, so I sat on my bed and worked out the unfamiliar fastenings, first securing the suspender belt around my waist, then rolling the stockings up my legs. After finally working out how the clips on the suspender tabs worked and clipping the stockings up, I then picked the satin panties up, and slowly pulled them on, revelling in their beautiful smoothness, surprising after so many years of cotton. The underwear didn't actually fit me too well, but that didn't matter as I looked in the mirror at how I looked, a slim figure in shining red and black lingerie, for the first time. From that moment I knew that this was 'me'.   Throughout my teenage years I fantasised about having my own lingerie, but with the lack of money that youth normally bestows, my dream didn't become a reality until I started work. When I started work I also discovered women and sex. I always longed to combine my secret passion with a physical relationship, but I never told anyone about my secret. In fact all was not so easy as it may seem, for I went through periods of denial, where I would throw my lingerie away and think I had conquered this desire, but it proved to be part of me and was not to be denied. Now I am happily married to a woman who knows about my feminine side. I made sure that she knew all about my lingerie passion, since I wouldn't want to go through the lies and deceit that inevitably follows any attempt to deny what is a powerful part of my life. In closing, I would say this to anyone out there who feels like some sort of outcast. You are not alone. You are who you are. Be very sure of anyone you reveal your self to. Finally, enjoy your passion and don't be a prisoner of guilt! Charlene

Nov 201520

Unexpected Change

short story
  They looked and felt so nice and were so soft. When I took a bath, I found myself noticing her stockings drying over the shower bar. When I asked her about what a run in her stockings meant, and why my socks didn't have runs, she tried to explain it was a girl thing. Then I decided one day to look in her dresser and that experience changed my life. Everything was so smooth and soft and smelled so good. I decided to revisit that dresser when I got the opportunity when I got the chance. I thought my chance came when my mother was at work and I got out of school at 3:00. Careful to remember where everything was placed and how it was folded, I took some items from her lingerie drawer. There were silky things and other items that looked tight and felt stretchy. For some reason I decided to put on one of the stretchy things that had legs in them. It was hard to get it on but I managed. It felt nice yet strange. My little parts between my legs felt constricted but somehow I felt wonderful. I also loved the smell of her perfume and opened a container of one, spilling a bit of it on me. I carefully replaced the cap and put it back on the top of her dresser. I spent an unknown amount of time enjoying my feelings and sensations. Then I heard the door open !!! It was my mother! I was in her bedroom, in her girdle and smelled like her perfume! I struggled to undo what I had done! I found myself on her bedroom floor, her girdle around my ankles, trying to crawl under her bed. The expression on her face gave me no clue as to what she thought. I undressed - embarrassed and afraid. We ate macaroni & cheese without a word spoken. I went bed fearful, yet exhilarated from the emotions and feelings that came from my mother's dresser that day. Nothing was said for a year. A year later I was in our garage and found some boxes. I rummaged through them and discovered the mother load. So many girdles, so many panties and skirts - blouses, bras and everything feminine! I couldn't resist myself! In a wave of ecstasy I dressed again. Nothing else mattered. Then I heard my mother's voice! Again I tried to scramble for cover! Again I didn't succeed in my deception! This time my mother insisted we talk. Afraid and shy, thinking I might die or be punished. I told her that I liked being in her clothes. Then I cried, went to bed and shivered. Nothing was said again for about a week. She was my mother and I knew she loved me. I was 11 years old. At breakfast soon after she told me that I had to take some new vitamins. I took them as always and ate my oatmeal. I studied hard, made good grades but wasn't very good at sports. I continued this regimen for the next 2 years. Six months after my garage experience I told my mother that I was feeling a bit of pain. She asked me where and I said it was in my chest. She took off my shirt and examined me. My pain seemed to come my nipple areas and I thought that I felt a lumpiness that was new to me. She told me that I was O.K. and it was part of growing up. When I went to Jr. High School I was told that I couldn't take P.E. because of a medical condition. I still did art, studied hard, but didn't understand the obsession the other boys were starting to have in girls. I liked most of the other girls and even some of the boys, but I didn't somehow seem to fit in. I was a loner but still kept taking my "vitamins".
    unexpected-change-p2.jpgNow it was the era of long hair for boys and other social changes. There were other major changes happening to me. Some of the boys were growing mustaches but nothing that way was happening to me. Other things were though! Slowly I noticed things in the mirror! My pants didn't fit right! They were loose around my waist and my bottom and thighs were looking fat! My mother encouraged me to grow my hair long because it was now in fashion. Then I noticed in the mirror that not only did I not have any chest hair but that my chest looked like I had breasts! Over the next six months they were undeniable! I had larger breasts than half of the girls in my high school! I also started having feelings for some of the boys that were hard for me to understand. I also kept close to some of the girls who told me that I way of relating to them that "other boys" didn't. I wore loose shirts, kept my hair log according to the style and tried to figure out that which was getting very difficult to disguise! My waist was thin! My breasts were large! I had a body shape that caused most people to call me miss or young lady! I was surprised that most of the time I enjoyed it! I still kept taking my vitamins - but it was time that I had to express my concerns and intimate feelings to the only family that I had known - my mother. My breasts were now large, my waist was thin and body had a shape that some girls would envy. I felt attracted to boys in a way that scared me and excited me too. My voice didn't sound like the other boys and because I was teased I kept to myself for the most part. Confused, I turned to my mother again. Dutifully I still kept taking the "vitamins" as always. She suggested that we have a talk, keep taking my vitamins and that she had something to tell me! What she said both floored me and relieved me. She related that since my father left her she had a distrust of men. She tearfully told me that she had always wished to have a daughter. She couldn't fathom raising a son and had early on decided for me to be her daughter. We both cried. She then told me that she had a couple of surprises for me. In my old bedroom was a new dresser. She asked me to open the drawers. Inside them were the prettiest panties, the coziest night gowns and in the top drawer were barrettes, head bands and ear rings! I sighed, was excited but didn't know quite how to express my feelings. I was glad inside but then knew that it was time for us to have a real "girl to girl" talk! We proceeded to have that talk and I expressed my honest concerns and fears! I took my vitamins, sat down with mother as she told me of her last surprise! She told me that she had been saving her money and had befriended a skilled doctor. Over the next 2 hours I thought, cried and went more than twice to the mirror. Among the options I considered was being the boy that born as. The mirror told me otherwise. But there was still the matter of a particular piece of anatomy that made my mother's wish for a daughter impossible - or was it? After another heart to heart discussion with my mother, I decided to finally resolve my ambiguity. My anatomy could finally be in sync with the rest of me!
    unexpected-change-p3.jpgThe arrangements were made, and with trepidation I checked in, was prepped, sedated and went to sleep. When I awoke it was over and a nurse told me all was successful. I had completely become the daughter my mother had always wanted and there was no turning back! Eventually I healed, we went shopping together and even looked at catalogs. My reasoning was that over 50% of the population was female, I didn't feel comfortable as a male and we have nicer clothes. I enjoy doing my hair, picking out earrings and necklaces and dabbing perfume. I enjoy being a girl. The best "came later". Since being a woman I naturally wanted to try out my new equipment. I did however require that it be with a nice and loving man. Since my mother has passed on I have considered lesbian options. Either way I love to be loved, love to have my breasts loved and enjoy an orgasm. As a woman it is a bit of an inconvenience to pee when camping or to always have to sit on the toilet, but I have come to enjoy being touched, lotioned, and cuddling! The first time I was entered I was scared and it was a little painful. I sure it was the same for all girls at first. Believe it or not one of the most pleasurable experiences I now have is to walk by my bathroom mirror, look at myself and then apply the soap to the body that my mother so long ago envisioned her son/daughter having. Enjoy being a girl - a boy - but living!

Nov 201520

Sweet Tea Dancing

short story

 Sweet Tea Dancing

"It's alright for you girls in your trousers," I said, between gritted teeth, the wintery wind whipping about my stocking tops. There were four of us at the bus stop, two lesbians sensibly wrapped up against the weather; two transvestites less warmly dressed. We were waiting for a night bus. Really, it would have been a good idea to leave in time for the last tube, but the Tea Dance had been a lot of fun. The Sunday Tea Dance is a good place to shake a leg. It would have been best to let it go at that. But in my fourth tea dancing year I went a lot further than leg shaking. I broke a wrist. It is not a trannie event. The Evening Standard published an article which said something about forty transvestites turning up to the Tea Dance. That gave a very misleading impression. A sub-editor had axed a bit about most of the transvestites being women in male clothing. Without actually asking them, I feel sure that most of the women in masculine attaire would not care to be labelled as transvestites. 'Lesbian' or 'dyke' would surely be more popular. And, certainly going beyond transvestitism, the Tea Dance often attracts at least one female to male transsexual. In spite of some camp statements, the vast majority of the biological males dress in unequivocally male clothing. Amongst those in skirts. i suppose that almost as many would describe themselves as drag queens as would care to be called transvestites. The maximum number of trannies and drag queens I've ever seen at the Tea Dance is seven. More often it's just been me. On some of the infrequent weeks when I haven't made it there may have been none of us, although Gina's generally gone when I've missed it. The Sunday Tea Dance is, rather, a lesbian and gay affair. In Edwardian times, and subsequently, tea dances took place in the afternoon. There was tea and ballroom dancing. There's tea, and sandwiches, at the Sunday Tea Dance, too. The tea is available until seven o' clock, which used to be when they started serving alcohol. Now, the dancers can drink tea, something stronger or both before seven. The sandwiches are available until they run out. The dance runs from 5pm till midnight. It starts with ballroom numbers. The men mostly dance with men, the women with women.
    Later, there are usually one or more cabaret turns, disco dancing and line dances. The last named are after the fashion of chorus lines, everyone trying to do the same steps. Some don't always succeed, not that it matters. The spirit of the Tea Dance is to give it a go, no need to worry about being foolish. The typical tea dancer (if there is such a creature) has been through that and doesn't give a damn. There's a bit of barn dancing, western numbers..... The dancing is as diverse as the Tea Dance crowd. They even do the Gay Gordons. Well, what else would those Gordons be? With the moves, Tea Dance folk come and go, but the sprinkling of trannies shows no sign of increasing. Actually, our small number is one of the attractions for me. I like transvestites company well enough, but prefer diversity. The small number of trannies led to the accidental start of the cabaret number Gina and I do. One night the DJ put on 'Sweet Transvestite' from "The Rocky Horror Show". It cleared the dance floor, apart from my friend Gina and me. Evidently, we were the only two that night who considered ourselves sweet transvestites. As a child, I'd been very shy. Now suddenly a transvestite the centre of attention at a gay venue. I discovered that I enjoyed showing off. It was tremendous. I was having fun. Obviously, with no advanced warning. I hadn't put on a special costume for the number. As the routine developed, I just wore whatever skirt and top I had on that evening. For it did develop into a routine. A couple of weeks after our first "Sweet Transvestite", the DJ played the number again. We'd had time to think about it and produced something less like disco dancing and closer to a performance. Our cabaret number became a regular feature of the Tea Dance. Gina and I actually discussed what we were doing and went some way towards working together. As we improved, we received more enthusiastic applause. I loved it. Occasionally, I did the routine on my own when Gina couldn't make it. I enjoyed having the dance floor, and the audience, to myself. It was on such a night, however, that I broke my wrist. Gina was working that night. I have the impression that, when Jo put on our number, she was unaware that I was on my own. I leapt into the number, giving it plenty of oomph dancing for two. Suddenly, not far into the routine, I felt my feet sliding out from under me. I was falling over backwards and unable to recover my balance. Automatically, I extended my hands to break the fall. There was a wet patch on the dance floor. I can't say for certain that I stepped on it, at the time I was looking at my audience rather than my feet. The probability is that, as I went up on one toe, I was resting my entire weight on perhaps a square inch of wet floor.
    There I was, alone on the dance floor, the eyes of the entire Tea Dance fixed upon me, falling backwards. In so far as I had time to think anything at that instant, it had to do with making a fool of myself rather than with possible injury. Worse was to follow. As my wrists took my weight (painfully) my head jerked back throwing off my wig. The pain didn't bother me at that moment. What worried me was losing my wig in front of all those people - trannie vanity! There was really only one thing to do. Immediately, I leapt back to my feet, pulling my wig back on as I did so. As soon as I was on my feet I was dancing. I continued to give plenty of oomph. At the end, I received a tremendous round of applause. I wonder how they would have reacted if they'd known that I'd broken my wrist. Of course, there was no way that they could have known that, I didn't realise it myself. Casualty I knew that I was in pain, and I left early. Never having broke a bone in my life before, I was inclined to think that I had sprained it. The following morning, it seemed sufficiently serious to take to the hospital. If there is an ideal time to pass through casualty, it isn't Bank Holiday Monday. Still it had to be done. Next week, I was back at the Tea Dance with my arm in plaster and a sling. It caused quite a sensation. People told me that they thought I'd fallen deliberately. I must have recovered from the fall very well and extremely quickly. A puzzling question was - why should I fall deliberately? At least one person supplied the answer 'to be camp'. I didn't ask what he meant by that, but I suppose that in making my hard landing I'd exposed my underwear as well as my real hair. That was an aspect I hadn't previously considered. After a week off, I was back on the dance floor, performing in plaster. It was a handicap because I use my arms a lot when dancing. Nor was dancing the only thing with which I had trouble. fastening suspenders was tricky, for one thing. Some were more difficult than others - I think the worst was the right hand (or thigh?) rear suspender. A bit of a struggle to overcome these difficulties was well worthwhile. When I put on my dancing shoes, I put on stockings and suspenders as well. The cool draught about the thighs, so shiversome at the night bus stop, is welcome when it hots up on the dance floor. And when it comes to flashing my undies, who wants to look at the crotch of a pair of tights? I t's a rare Sunday that doesn't see me putting on my dancing shoes, and twirling a skirt. It's a lot of fun. Sunday is the best night of most weeks.

Nov 201520

Samantha's First Dress

short story
I know someone else said this already, but, like many stories, mine starts at the beginning. Now it is probably a good idea to launch into a fine array of theories as to why people cross dress. I will do that in time but as this is essentially one person's account of female impersonation, I will keep the clinical stuff and the psycho-babble to a minimum. This story will be interspersed by random musings on the causes of this constellation of femininity - but it is beyond the scope of this writer to offer anything new, save for his/her own experiences. So on with the show...   My first dress (clearing my throat now, like any great storyteller) was one of the prettiest sights my young male eyes had ever seen. It was of a silk-like material and while predominately white, it had pretty little blue and yellow birds variegated throught its delicate cut. There was aplique on the hem and around the short sleeves and it seemed to whisper femininity when it was disturbed. Just looking at this fine garment set off fireworks in my head and butterflies in my stomach. I knew instantly that I wanted it, and more importantly, that I wanted to wear it. There was of course a small problem, I was six years old and it belonged to my eight year old sister. So with all the ingenuity that a six year old could muster I took the unprecedented step of getting actively involved in my older sisters' games and, once I had infiltrated their girlie society, I ventured a new game of my own devising. "Why don't we all play dress up?", I said with a conviction that belied my uncertainty. To my eternal surprise they acceeded instantly and without any conferring. I was soon to learn why. You see, 'dress up' for them was the perfect opportunity to humiliate their otherwise aloof little brother. They understood this tacitly and began, with great urgency, the transformation process. A smear of soot above their lips from the old chimney and the donning of some ties and they were complete. I would have protested at their hastily improvised male guises, but I was far too eager to move on to myself. They launched at me with obvious glee and held up a dress for me to climb into. "Wait!", I screamed. I didn't want just any dress, I wanted that dress. But how could I articulate that without betraying my cunning? Necessity is the mother of invention they say and a new twist to the game had just been neccessitated. "You lay all the dresses on the bed there, and I'll close my eyes and jump on one." Brilliant!! "That will be my dress", I insisted.   It mattered little to them which dress I wore, so they gave each other a cursory look and then nodded affirmatively in unison. Closing my eyes I made a mental note of where 'my' dress was and jumped headlong at it - a manouvere that pre-figured my dressing in later life. A considerable crash and bruised cheek later, I lay on the floor dazed. My eldest sister holding my prize above me - that dress. It had an incredible anodyne effect on my post-crash aches and my transformation began in earnest.   That first experience was the beginning of a life of dressing. I went through all the various stages: Plastering lipstick en masse; donning every fuax pas fashion could muster; wearing heels and walking like an ostrich. These days, I'm pleased to say, I have mcuh more fashion sense, have finally got to grips with liquid eyeliner and am generating a much stronger female aura - all good things come in time. Vive la femme!! Samantha

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