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Nov 201520

A Rugby Dream

short story

A RUGBY DREAM

  Girls, I could just not believe what I was reading, but there it was in black and white in the newspaper. Two Children, two young girls, faced possible expulsion from their schools because they did not want to play the school game. And what was the recognised game at this small girl's school? Why, nothing else but Rugby. Now i have no objections to men and boys playing rugby. But I ask you, why should girls have to put up with this violent, physical game. I should hate to battle it out on a muddy pitch, in the wind and the rain, for the best part of two hours, wearing those brightly coloured jerseys and shorts and great big ugly boots, kicking an oval ball about, which might bounce in any direction, including my pretty face. To say nothing of the tackles and the fists and the kicking in the scrummage. What would happen to my carefully manicured fingernails? And what about the ugly bruises on my soft white arms and waxed legs? It would take a month of beauty treatments to put all that right again after just one game. That is not to say that I never watch rugby. Well I never go to a live rugby match - I couldn't face shivering on the terrace and I never did understand the complicated rules or how those high-sounding scores are calculated. Come to think of it, I don't think I really want to know about these things anyway. And from what I have heard from friends, the things that go on in the showers afterwards and the songs that are sung in the pub bar by the rugby players are not the sort of thing a nice girl should know anything about. But there are times when I have watched the game in the comfort of my own sitting room, on a Saturday afternoon in front of the television. Saturday afternoon is sacred. That is the time when I wash my hair and enjoy a scented bath, particularly in the winter months, and I relax in my negligee on the settee and do my nails. And to while away the time I switch on the television and if the film on the other channel is not very interesting, I have sometimes changed the channel showing the rugby match, league or union, I know not. I love watching those great big hunks of men battling it out on the pitch, the sight of their strong firm thighs and bottoms as they knuckle down to the scrum, and hairy arms flying all over the place as they race for the line pushing away all who try to stop them. They are so strong and so ravishingly masculine, I wish one of them could come from the screen out into my sitting room, sweep me in his arms up to the bedroom, lay me down and make hot passionate love to me. How I would gladly surrender to him, stroking his hair and pulling him against my breasts which are already standing out proud and firm for him, and feeling his strong firm tongue probing between my yielding lips. But alas it cannot be other than a girlish dream. Meanwhile those two young girls have my sympathy. I do hope they are not compelled to play this rough masculine game against all their innate feminine instincts. I am sure the rugby heroes would rather make love to really feminine girls than glorified tomboys, and when they grow up perhaps they will enjoy for real what has only been my dream.

Nov 201520

Downsized

short story

DOWNSIZED

  The entire company was buzzing about the rumours related to our "downsizing". Everyone in my department was concerned whether we would have jobs when the process was completed by the middle of next year. My nerves jumped when I received a call from my boss, requesting that I meet with her tomorrow morning. I knocked on her door at exactly 9:00 AM and she asked me to come in and close the door behind me. "Well, I'm sure you're aware of all the rumors Jim. It seems that everyone is talking about our downsizing efforts but no one really knows for sure what is really going to happen. However, I have some good news for you. Out of all the personnel in your area, you will still have a job." "Gee, thanks Karen. I really appreciate you telling me this and I'm starting to feel better already", I said. "There are some other important details, Jim. You must not reveal what I've told you to anyone. Also, starting tomorrow, you will report to the corporate gym. The Company wants you to loose weight, quite a few pounds from the looks of this report. I will keep tabs on your progress and we'll just go from there, okay?" "Sure, Karen. That's all you want me to do? Go to the gym each day and loose weight?" "That's right, Jim. And, it won't be any picnic either. The fitness trainer will be giving you a serious workout and a special follow her instructions to the letter." "Okay, Karen, will do. And thanks." The next day, I reported to the gym at 8:30AM and met Cindy, the aerobics instructor. After she checked my weight and took some measurements, she gave me some workout sweats and we began a series of light exercises. As the day wore on, the tempo of the workout in creased and I was weighed again at the end of the day. Every day, I went through the same routine; weight, measurements, then a light workout that increased and soon, I was doing high energy moves and my weight began dropping noticeably. In fact, one day, Karen popped in to see how I was doing. Cindy told her that I was her best student. When I started, I weighed close to 195 pounds and after three months of these exercises and the diet, I was down to 150 pounds and still dropping! "He's doing very well, Cindy. You can begin the vitamin shots tomorrow", Karen said. "I didn't know Cindy could give shots, Karen. With all this exercise, do you think I really need vitamins?", I asked. "Oh yes, Jim. You're going to need those shots more than ever now!", she replied. "Okay. By the way, how's the downsizing program going", I asked. "I'd say that everything is right on track", she replied. "In fact, I think that you're just about completely done being downsized", she added. "Me? Downsized? I thought that it was the organization that was being downsized!" "Oh, the organization IS being downsized, Jim. And, certain people who will remain with us are ALSO being downsized! Including you! There will be many changes taking place shortly and I want to make sure that you fully cooperate", she said. For the next three months, my workouts were much less strenuous and I received daily doses of vitamins and weekly shots. Cindy demanded that I refrain from cutting my hair also. "The Company will provide a hairstylist because we want to effect a totally new look among our employees", she said. This sounded rather strange to me but I went along with it. After all, at least I still had ajob! About a month later, Karen asked me to see her in her office. I met her one morning and she complimented me on my "new" appearance. Then, she asked me to do her one small favor. She explained that the Company no longer wanted its employees to have excess body hair. For this reason, all employees were to have their excess hair removed. We could either have this permanently done or use depilatories temporarily.
    "This sounds mighty strange tome, Karen. Ithinkthe Company may be asking too much", I said. "Jim, I don't want to get authoritarian but you must follow these new guidelines. You will understand soon why all of these things are necessary", she countered. I did as she asked and soon, my body was smooth, soft and hairless. One day, while taking a shower, I noticed something really strange about my body. I seemed to have a "figure"; I mean, like a feminine figure! I saw that my waist, now slender, was in perfect proportion to my now flill, rounded hips! And, I appeared to be developing "breasts"! I wrapped a towel around myself and hurried out of the shower and knocked on Cindy's door. "Cindy", I exclaimed, "What's happening to me? I seem to be changing into a woman. I have flill hips, a flat tummy and slender waist and NOW, it seems I'm developing breasts!! What's going on?" Cindy picked up her phone, dialed and then said into the receiver, "You'd better get down here - he knows.""HE KNOWS? Knows what?", I shouted. "What is going on?" Suddenly, the door opened and Karen stood there, smiling. I looked at her, wondering what was so funny and why she was grinning at me. "Okay, Jim. It's time you know the rest of the Company program. You were selected to stay on and therefore, you became a candidate for our DOWNSIZING POLICY. Only good performers were selected and you were the top performer in your area. YOU have been "downsized" - that's what we called having you loose weight. Next, you were RIGHTSIZED - our term for developing a more pleasing body structure for you. Later today, your hair will be cut, styled and permed, you will be fitted for a new FEMALE wardrobe and then you will undergo the final process as your maleness is EXCISED!! You see, our new organization will be completely female and only a select few males who served us well in the past are being allowed to remain. However, they must all become women and soon, that's what you will be!" "Karen, you've got to be kidding! This is some kind of joke!" "No Jim. I'm sorry but it's no joke. But look on the bright side. You have a pretty nice figure now. Soon, after your surgery, you will be even more attractive, more feminine, and of course more desirable! You do realize what the Company's new products will be, don't you?" "No Karen. I've got no idea and I'm not sure I want to know." "I think you do, Jim. By the way, we'll all be addressing you by a new name tomorrow - you're going to become "Janice". And, our new core business will be in apparel - women's apparel, specifically, lingerie and foundations. And, you, Janice, will become one of our prettiest, most desirable models!! Think of it; you're going to get to wear the scantiest, sexiest panties, bras, garter belts, slips and nightwear. You'll look so sweet! !" "But how? Why? Why me?", I asked. "Because, you want to. You've always wanted to. Besides, I know that you always wanted to be part of a "downsizing" operation and now, you are!! Welcome to the wonderful world of feminine "fun"!! Well, that was how it all happened. Now, I'm a gorgeous lingerie model; all 38-24-39 of me! As Janice, I have the run of the offices and the studios. I have several boyfriends and Karen makes sure that I go out ondates and keep all of her clients happy when I'm not modeling. Oh, I guess this business changing isn't too bad but beware - if your boss ever talks about "downsizing", ask for the specifics before you agree - or you might also find that your body has been "reengineered" too!!!!

Nov 201520

Learning To Walk Properly

frequently asked questions, how to guides

LEARNING TO WALK PROPERLY

  A graceful walk is actually good posture in motion; the traditional training method is to practice with a book on your head. Now, balancing a book (or anything else) on top of your head forces your body into proper alignment – and that is the foundation of both good posture and an attractive walk! Here’s how your body should shape up when alignment is correct: rib cage vertical, not tilted forward or backward… pelvis straight (if you had a tail, it would hang straight down, not tucked under between your legs!)… knees and feet pointing straight ahead. A plumb line would fall just in front of ankle bone, just behind kneecap, through center of hip joint and middle of waist, shoulder, ear lobe. (If you’d like to check yourself out, you can hang a tape measure down a full-length mirror and see.) When you walk, your footprints should look like this: Feet are turned out just the tiniest bit and placed in almost a straight line – only an inch or two apart. The length of your stride is determined by how tall you are and how long your legs are. (Average stride is about one foot for women.) If you are long-legged and take small strides, your walk may be of the mincing variety… like a goose, it looks silly! Conversely, if you’re petite and have a long stride, you may look like a drill sergeant pompously marching along, and you need to shorten your stride a bit. In doubt about your footprint pattern? Try walking barefoot in wet sand. How your body’s weight is distributed when you stand or walk is vital.   The Mensendieck method of body mechanics advocates training muscles to automatically maintain the “balanced standing position:” Weight is not on heels, but on the “inner margin ball” of the foot, just behind the big toe. Place your feet in a parallel position, tighten buttocks and inner thigh muscles, lower the shoulder blades and stretch the spine, pulling your head back and up (never let your head poke forward like a turtle). There! That’s the balanced standing position, and, once in it, your figure will look its very best! Now, relax a bit (but keep your weight on the inner margin ball of your feet), and start walking slowly. Swing legs from the hip socket (without twitching derriere at every step!) and keep your body aligned: shoulders level, head up and back, shoulder blades lowered, rib cage vertical. With each step, your heel hits the ground first… then weight instantly rolls forward along the outside edge of foot onto the big toe – with which you push off for the next step. This shift of weight is done smoothly, with a continuous, fluid motion. Now that you know what to do, here are some don’ts: Don’t toe in or toe out… shift hips from side to side… take giant strides or tiny baby steps… lead with your head… swing your shoulders… bob up and down. That’s all there is to it! Happy walking… You never looked better! Article kindly published from Karen Ann Taylor's Transgender and Information Library  

Nov 201520

Karins Story

short story

KARINS STORY

  Karin is a cross dresser from Holland, who sent us this account of her first dressing experience: 13 Years old and already different... My first feelings about being "different" came when I was about thirteen years old, when I discovered what would later turn out to be my transvestism. Once I was in the attic playing with my electric trains, my mother came upstairs and hung the laundry to dry. Not only a couple of dresses, but also stockings, panties, garter belt and a moulded bra were pegged to the clothesline.   When I was walking around the table on which my electric train was on, my face touched the silk stockings, which gave me a special shivering all over my body and I noticed I liked that. My hand touched also my mother's bra and suddenly came the feeling that I should try it on. I went downstairs to see if anyone else was left in the house, and fortunately I was home alone. The ultimate opportunity to do what had just come into my mind... I ran back to the attic, not closing the door completely behind me so that I could hear if somebody came home early. I took off my own clothes and slipped into my mother's underwear. Panties first and next a little struggle with the bra. I will never forget that it wasn't so difficult to put on after all - just like I was used to it! Only the garter belt and the stockings caused a few problems, but finally I was wearing female underwear. It gave me a very special feeling I can hardly describe.   Before putting on the dress I wanted to have a look at myself in the mirror, which was downstairs - I climbed down the stairs and went to my parent's bedroom. I was really astonished to see what was reflected back to me in the mirror - I have to admit that the underwear wasn't really my size, but it was amazing how good I felt in it. I had filled the moulded bra with a couple of socks and it really looked as though I had breasts! I went upstairs again and slipped into a nice blue dress. Of course, it was a little too big, but that didn't matter. In my mother's wardrobe I found a pair of black high heels which I put on, and I felt my dressing was complete. I was feeling excited but also feeling just me!   Suddenly I heard the kitchen door slam - I was seized with fear and ran to the attic. I tried to get out of these clothes as soon as possible, but doing that I ran a ladder into one of the stockings. I didn't care about it at that very moment; I had to go back to normal too quickly to notice. Just as I put on my own trousers again my mother came into the door. "Did you have a nice time, dear?" she asked. "Yes mom" I said, looking straight at my trains running around the table. She went to the clothesline, looked at her clothes and suddenly said: "That's a pity, another pair of stockings with a ladder, I'll have to buy a new pair...", leaving me with my thoughts about that crazy, wonderful half hour. Now, several years later, I have been a transvestite for many years. I now have a rather great female wardrobe of my own. It includes several pairs of all sorts of underwear, dresses, skirts, shoes, boots, wigs, silicone breasts, jewellery, makeup and all the things a woman needs. Every moment I want to feel like a woman I can slip into everything I have.   Sometimes I want to be sexy, with a miniskirt, tights, a nice shirt and high heeled thigh boots. Other times I like to wear stockings, a nice colourful dress and pumps. Doing so, I really feel true to myself. There are only a very few people that know about my female feelings. Although being a transvestite has it's complications, I couldn't do without it anymore. I enjoy it too much! Love, Karin

Nov 201520

First Night

short story

FIRST NIGHT

Looking back now, Mike could see how Mandy had skilfully manoeuvred him into stockings and suspenders: right from the time they had discussed Gary's up coming party. Mandy had suggested a feminine character and Mike's immediate reaction had been a pantomime dame. No, Mandy had said, not when all the others would think of the same idea. He could hear her say it even now, "Be original, novel, be unique!" yes, but what? They'd run through all the female characters, any number of princesses, Cinderella and �yes Snow White. Mandy had said that was just right as Snow White was sweet pure and innocent. "And gullible." Said Mike to himself with perfect hindsight. A trawl through the cheap clothes shops uncovered a whole new world for Mike; a dangerous one where the adrenaline high became almost addictive as he searched through the rails of dresses, skirts and tops. A little patience was rewarded with the discovery of a long white button through skirt and a t-shirt style top with sculptured patterns and motifs. The girl at the checkout eyed Mike suspiciously. Mike felt he must be blushing, but tried to carry it off as an ordinary, everyday affair. He stepped out of the shop clutching the plain white carrier bag, and found he'd been holding his breath. Two deep breaths and he was well enough to walk home. The following day, a more confident Mike ventured into the town's department store. He'd walked through the lingerie department many times carefully studying the garments while appearing not to look at them. "Looking for something nice for your girlfriend?" Mike had almost died as the sales assistant spoke. He stepped back and tangled himself up in one of the display stands. He recovered enough to nod. "Looking for a three-piece set in white?", and she went on without waiting for a reply, "Now this is nice, with the lacy panels, and suspender belt, here." Mike was horrified. Surely everyone in the shop must be looking at him. And she was still talking at the top of her voice. "Do you know what size she is, your girlfriend, her bust and cup size?" From his minimal research in a thick shopping catalogue, Mike had decided 36b was nicely middle of the road. "Yes, we've got plenty in that size. Would you like some shiny white stockings to go with it? They're a very popular line with the young ladies." She waved a packet at Mike, and he managed to smile and say, "Yes". He paid, and set off for the shoe department. This was far less traumatic. He selected a pair of size 8 white sandals from the "sale" racks before anyone accosted him. Then he hurried home to try everything on. Mike waited until the house was empty, and the he locked his bedroom door - he couldn't risk his Mum or brothers finding him dressed up. He put the bra and briefs on, stuffing a rolled up sock in each of the empty cups. The suspender and stockings were a little trickier. Mike had to reattach the suspenders to the stocking tops when he discovered the secret of being able to take his knickers down without undoing everything.
    Next came the white sculptured top, and Mike looked down admiringly at the mounds on his chest. He stepped into the skirt; the waist was elasticated and very easy to adjust. He tried it with just the last few buttons undone near the hem. He undid more buttons, two at a time, and tested the effect by walking up and down. He finally settled on about three quarters undone. Mike put the sandals on, and walked up and down some more. He was aware for the first time of the sensual effect of the skirt moving against his legs as he walked. But it wasn't complete yet. There was a male hairstyle and hairy legs to be sorted, and make-up to be applied. The ever helpful Mandy said she would help with all that. The night of the party came and Mike got his bundle out of the house without his mum seeing it. He drove the short distance to Mandy's flat, his heart thumping with anticipation. Mandy's husband Tom was out when Mike arrived. She ushered him into the box room and gave him her shaver. "You'll have to do something with those legs." She smiled and left the room. Mike stripped to his underwear and began shaving his legs. He decided to shave under his arms too, and then removed most of the body hair he could reach. Mike tingled inside as he slipped the stockings on. Everything that touched his silky smooth legs felt strange, exotic and exciting. Mike finished dressing and called Mandy. She came in wearing just her French knickers. Mike was used to seeing Mandy less than fully undressed, but he had never seen her topless. As she painted his finger nails and set about restyling his hair, he pondered on the unusual relationship Tom and Mandy had. He wasn't sure they actually went wife swapping, but they both played the field independently. He was sure Tom wouldn't think anything of seeing Mandy half naked with a man dressed as a woman. Tom arrived home at that moment, put his head round the door, smiled, and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. Mandy finished Mike's hair and applied hi make-up. He peered at himself in the mirror and. Who was that looking back? It wasn't Mike. But it was Mikki! Mike watched the television for half an hour while Tom and Mandy got themselves ready. Mike couldn't settle. He practised trying to walk elegantly, with some success. Then Mandy and Tom came into the lounge, and demonstrated their Pantomime Horse costume. They gathered up their bottles and cans, and left the flat, walking a short distance down the road to Tom's Car. The wind blew Mike's skirt open to reveal the stocking tops and suspenders. Some passers-by stared at his exposed thighs, and a rush of adrenalin surged through his veins. He half turned towards them and the wind lifted high enough for them to see his lacy briefs: they whistled appreciatively. From that moment, Mike was hooked - he would have to do this again! The party was a pleasant enough affair, teeming with pantomime dames but only one Snow White. Several people thought he was a girl: a testimonial to Mandy's skill with hair and make-up. Mandy danced with Mike several times, always when there was a slow, smoochy record on. She held him close, pressing her body against his. Towards the end of the evening, Mandy took Mike upstairs away from the noise to talk. "Well Mike, how are you enjoying being dressed up?" "It's great!" He paused. "The only problem I've got is when I get excited." Mandy's brow furrowed into a question.
    "These briefs aren't really large enough." And Mike lifted up his skirt to show Mandy his swollen, semi erect penis trying to climb out of his knickers. Mandy's eyebrows went up, and she smiled. "Actually, I came to ask if you mind going home now. Tom's had far too much to drink, and I'll need some help getting him into bed." "Yes, of course. We can go right away." Mike was looking forward to walking outside in the breeze again. Getting to the car and then walking back to the flat was as exciting as before, even though there was no one to see Mike's display. With some difficulty, they got Tom upstairs and into his bed. Mike and Mandy retired to the lounge. "Why don't you stay the night?" Mandy suggested, breaking the silence as they sipped hot coffee. Mandy moved closer to Mike on the sofa. She put her arm around him and kissed him. Mike was too stunned to object, and then he found he didn't want to object. Her hands gliding up and down his leg smoothed his psyche. Unselfconsciously, Mike's hands explored the natural curves of her body. Her hand moved to his penis and she gently caressed it to it's full stature: it burst out of the briefs. Mike's hand in response, delved inside Mandy's knickers, finding comfort in her warmth. He stroked her clitoris with a gentle rhythm. While their coffee went cold, they warmed up, delving and exploring each other. Mandy stood up and held her hand out to Mike. They walked to the spare room and closed the door. "Let me undress you," Mandy whispered. She slowly took off his clothes, making every movement a sensual stroking sensation that held Mike in a state of euphoria. She left his suspenders and stockings on. "I want you to make love to me still made up like a woman." Mike now knew where it had all been leading to. She wanted him as her TV lover. Mike took her clothes off as she lay on the bed in front of him, and he surveyed her body. Why should he complain? He would never turn down the chance of sex with Mandy, whatever the preconditions. Mike climbed onto the bed and set about his first night of TV passion with Mandy. The End

Nov 201520

Should I tell the one I love?

frequently asked questions, how to guides

SHOULD I TELL THE ONE I LOVE

Whichever path we choose only one thing can be certain, unless you are very lucky indeed you are likely to endure much heartache and frustration along the way. If the answer is no, you may be committing yourself to a life of secrecy and deceit, if the answer is yes, you will probably run the risk of being misunderstood and rejected. Of course, this will not be the case for everyone and I can only draw on my own experiences to come to these conclusions. However, I am pretty sure that there must be plenty of other transvestites out there whose story is not that different than mine. I can remember being as young as twelve years old standing naked in front of a mirror with my boyfriend carefully tucked out of sight innocently admiring a reflection that had a strange hint of femininity about it. At this time I had no idea why I did this, all I know was that it felt pleasant and comforting. At sixteen having secured a Saturday job and having some spare money, I found myself inexplicably purchasing woman's underwear, wonderfully soft silky and delicate panties and bras. I built up quite a collection. Whenever I was alone I would select my favourite items, put them on and spend hours parading in front of the all-important mirror savouring the pleasant feeling it gave me. To my absolute horror my secret collection was discovered by my mother and for the first time in my life I was made to feel guilt and shame for my behaviour. Despite being hurt and confused by the subsequent anger and derision, I quickly replaced my confiscated belongings, found a more secure hiding place and continued to dress up as often as possible. At seventeen I met and fell in love with my first real girlfriend, Irene, and as our relationship blossomed I longed to let her in on my little secret, but the right moment never seemed to come. When we arranged to spend a weekend away together at a caravan park in the countryside an idea suddenly occurred to me. As we unpacked I feigned annoyance telling my girlfriend that I had forgotten to take any spare underwear with me. I managed to persuade Irene to lend me some of her's and she gave me a pair of skimpy powder-blue satin panties. Feelings Later on in the local pub she playfully teased me that the outline of her panties were clearly visible through my trousers and what would all the other customers think if they know what I was wearing. I had engineered the situation but failed to take full advantage of it and express my true feelings, something I have always regretted. Instead we laughed and joked about it, I suggested that maybe I could borrow some of her underwear in the future but this was met with a cool response. The act of wearing those panties in her presence and with her full knowledge was an extremely elating experience, but not wishing to upset Irene I pushed the matter no further. However, I could not stop the compulsive desire to dress up and so I carried on in private and my little collection started to grow. I obtained a skirt and blouse, a dress, more underwear and some makeup. Our love for each other grew and at eighteen we married, moved away from home and started to make a life together.We were very happy together, but I felt that there was something missing, I desperately wanted to tell my new wife about my peculiar habit, but could not find the words or the courage to do so. As a compromise, keeping my own feminine belongings well hidden, I suggested that it might be fun for me to dress up in some of her clothes as a game, a prelude to sex. In my naivety I imagined that this solution would make it easier for Irene to accept my needs to cross-dress and that, although it was not exactly what I wanted, I at least had the opportunity to dress in feminine clothes in her presence.  
  Uncomfortable I should have been more honest and come clean, it was an uncomfortable arrangement for the both of us. Although Irene let me indulge myself it was far from perfect, she was confused that her husband, a man, should want to wear her clothes for no apparent reason other than a game, and for my part I was gaining very little pleasure from these occasional opportunities. For me, dressing as a woman had nothing to do with sexual gratification, I didn't want to become a woman and I definitely wasn't gay, and yet because of my inability to express my true feelings those were the thoughts that were going through my wife's mind. And with no logical explanation from me, who could blame her really? I spent long hours deliberating over the problem and trying to figure out a way to tell Irene, I became obsessed with wanting her to understand me. The pressure of keeping this secret to myself was starting to become an intolerable burden. It was such a simple, harmless and innocent pleasure, so why did it evoke such misunderstanding and prejudice? It wasn't something dirty or perverted, in fact quite the opposite. When I had rid my body of hair, slipped into skimpy lace trimmed underwear, pulled on my stockings and high heels, put on my skirt and blouse, placed my wig upon my head and applied my makeup I stepped into another world, a better more peaceful and gentle world. The stresses and strains of everyday life seemed to drift away, worries and anxieties were replaced with an aura of beautiful tranquil pleasure. How could this be so wrong? I stopped requesting our little game and reverted to dressing in secret again, alone and isolated, but at least I was dressing as a woman for my own reasons and not as a compromise. I continued like this for some time and life went on - we had two beautiful daughters and we went through the normal ups and downs that all couples have to endure. On the face of it we were a very happy, healthy couple except that I was leading this terrible double life. On the one hand I was the respectable loving husband and father and on the other this person who craved to dress up as a woman in secret because there didn't seem to be any other choice. The burden of keeping my feminine half hidden soon began to take its toll and I am sure my family suffered as a consequence. I became increasingly bad tempered and irritable and started to turn to drink for solace. I couldn't see it then but I became a pitiful creature full of self pity and sorrow, and it was all my own creation. I went through bouts of depression and guilt, throwing away all my feminine belongings, promising myself that I could live without it only to find a couple of months later that the irresistle urge would return with a gretaer intensity. I would then go out on mad shopping sprees replacing everything that I had lost, and so began an expensive destructive cycle that was to last for fifteen years. Every so often I approached Irene asking her if she would agree to my dressing up in her presence, but my requests were always greeted with an emphatic no. This did not help my growing anxiety and depression, but it was not her fault, it was mine. Why couldn't I have just been more honest from the beginning. It would have made life so much easier...  
  Mistake In one last desperate act I took advantage of a weekend alone with Irene while the children were staying with relatives and persuaded her to let me dress up in front of her. She agreed, but it was a mistake, a very big mistake. I felt so happy as I prepared myself, ensuring that I looked my best. Irene's jaw dropped as I entered the room in my favourite outfit, high heeled court shoes, stockinged legs, a short black velour mini-skirt, a wine coloured blouse, my face fully made up and my mousey blonde wig. she could not bear to look at me and after only fifteen minutes sitting on the sofa together she ran out of the room. I following and found her sobbing uncontrollably on the bed, she couldn't cope and was devastated, and it frightened me - this time I had surely gone too far. I had seen Irene upset before but this was different, I had a real feeling that I could lose her. That scared me. I loved her dearly and couldn't even contemplate life without her. Stripping off and scrubbing my face I stuffed all my feminine belongings into a large refuse sack and put it out with the rubbbish. I tried to comfort her, promising her that I would change, that I would block my compulsation out altogether, but it did not last long. How shallow my promise was. Once again I found myself purchasing the clothes, underwear, make-up, shoes and wig that I could not live without, and again I started to dress in secret. Then something happen to change my life again, I had embarked on a quest to become a writer. I had always been quite artistic and I thought this would be a new way to express myself. After several rejected manuscripts I decided to follow some advice and write something I know about intimately. After one more rejection, my first short story was accepted! I was overjoyed and when I told Irene, to my surprise, she shared my joy. She said she was proud of me and pleased with my success. Misconceptions As subsquent scripts were accepted we began to openly discuss my strange obsession for the first time. In the evenings when we took our regular walk in the woods I was able to explain to Irene about the many different aspects of transvestism, why people did it and most importantly why I did it. It was wonderful to be able to talk like this, to explore the myths and misconceptions and my wife listened with genuine interest and curiosity. It was like a huge burden being lifted from my shoulders and I felt ten years younger, the relief at finally being understood was incredible. I still dress up on my own when I have the house to myself because I know that it's not Irene's cup of tea and I respect that, but now there is a big difference. I have not exactly got her blessing, but I do have her understanding and sympathy and that is very precious to me. I no longer suffer from depression or pangs of guilt and can enjoy my cross dressing for the simple pleasure that it is. I now only feel happiness in the knowledge that I have a one-in-milion, long suffering, loving and understanding wife.

Nov 201520

Mike's Discovery

short story

MIKES DISCOVERY

Mike's biggest problem was that he was indecisive. Anyone who knew him was aware that he had to be bullied into making decisions. He was a living example of the old joke: 'I used to be indecisive, now I'm not so sure' Mike's lack of positivity spilled into his personal life in unexpected ways. When Mike was a naïve 14 year old, his brother, Sean, had got married and brought his wife to live in the family home until settling into a place of their own. The fascination of having a young woman in the house was too much for Mike to resist. After Jane had been around for a couple of months, Mike had done what many boys like him would have done and decided to sneak a look in her underwear drawer... The first expedition had been carried out while the house was empty. Mike had gone through the cycle of wanting to do it, then not wanting to, but eventually his curiosity had beaten his fear. He'd quietly gone into the room (as if anybody would hear him anyway!) and opened the wardrobe door. The clothes he found were, of course, a mixture of male and female. It was only a small bedroom and Jane and Sean had to share the limited space as best they could. It was getting harder for Mike to breathe as he realised that here was a chance to discover what female underwear was really like! Countless hours spent looking at magazine advertisements and underwear catalogues had given Mike an idea of the look of lingerie. There had even been rare opportunities to briefly caress a pair of panties, a bra or a suspender belt while out shopping. Here at last was the real thing... Mike had never heard of cross-dressing or transvestism. As far as he was concerned he was only looking at pretty underwear because he liked to. Even at the stage of sneaking a look at Jane's undies it was only a bit of a thrill, nothing serious. After all, what else was a boy his age to do? As Mike started looking through the wardrobe, he was bracing himself for the possibility that Jane was not the sort of girl who would go in for 'sexy' underwear. He was fully expecting to discover a collection of old, comfortable cotton knickers and bras, nothing remotely interesting. Jane did have some plain undies, but as Mike nosed deeper into the wardrobe he found that she also liked far prettier and sexier lingerie too. Mike's breathing became quicker as he found a drawer containing things he had only dreamed of. There were satin and lace panties, bras and suspender belts. There were a couple of beautiful basques, one black, one red. Stockings of all colours abounded. Mike saw black, white, blue and even red nylons, a pair of black fishnets and lace tops...
    His hands trembled as he touched all the gorgeous underwear. The sensation of smoothness and the beauty of the lingerie, as compared with his own cotton boxers, was a revelation. Mike was totally lost in this world and when he heard his parent's car draw into the driveway he shot out of the bedroom, having tried to put everything back as he'd found it. Mike, blushing ferociously, darted back into his room, undiscovered. The thrill of what he'd found was coupled with a sense of guilt at having been going through someone else's possessions. After a few days, Mike's thoughts turned to Jane's underwear once more. It wasn't long before he was alone again. Inevitably, despite the fear of being caught he went back to look at and touch his sister in law's things. Up until now, Mike had no more thought of putting on female underwear than he had of learning Cantonese. In the presence of real lingerie he'd deciding that touching wasn't enough. There had to be a next step and it was pretty obvious what that should be. There was one particular underwear set of Jane's that made Mike feel very excited whenever he saw it. It was the perfect lingerie as far as he was concerned. The set consisted of bra, panties and suspender belt. It was made of smooth satin and delicate lace. The colour was pale pink with white lace. Mike knew that if he ever got around to actually wearing lingerie, then this would be his choice. There were many times over the next few days when Mike would let his thoughts wander to Jane's pretty pink underwear. School work was hard to concentrate on as visions of lingerie interrupted Mike's thoughts. He would come home in the afternoon, hoping that no one else would be home, so he could fulfil his fantasy. He'd then back out. The desire to try the underwear was always limited by the fear of being caught and exposed. Finally, tired of all the to-ing and fro-ing, Mike decided that he would be 'sick' and not go to school one day. Since everyone else in the household worked during the day this meant that Mike had the house to himself. The risk of discovery was next to non-existent. On the day that Mike had picked, he waited until all the normal sounds of departure for work had died away. He then waited five minutes in case someone had forgotten their keys, ten minutes in case of car breakdown and twenty minutes to allow for the possibility of someone being struck by lightning and staggering home... It was getting on for eleven o'clock before indecisive Mike actually got around to going into Jane and Sean's room. He picked out the pink and white undies, grabbed the first stockings that came to hand, panicked and put them all back. Realising that if he carried on like this he would never try the lingerie, Mike then took a deep breath, counted to ten and went back in. He picked up the ball of satin and lace, made sure there were two stockings in the mixture then marched back into his own room. Having at last achieved the first step, the rest should be relatively easy.
    Mike's 'studies' had shown him in great detail what lingerie was supposed to look like on a real body, so it was now a matter of working out the unfamiliar fastenings. This was not difficult and Mike was soon struggling to shed his clothes, impatient to put on satin and lace. He struggled with the bra before deciding that he wouldn't bother with it this time (This time? I hope there's going to be a next time! he thought) and picked up the suspender belt instead. Clipping it behind his waist proved difficult, particularly with his trembling, excited fingers, so Mike turned it around and fastened it at the front. Then he pulled it around to the proper position. The stockings came next and Mike instinctively decided that it would be best to roll them up then unroll them onto his legs. He carefully put the first rolled up stocking onto his foot then unrolled the cool, smooth black nylon up his leg. When the stocking was fully on, it was obvious that it was fastened to the suspenders by the dark welt at the top. Mike's fingers had calmed somewhat, so it was no trouble to secure the front suspender to the stocking. The rearmost strap was different! Finally, after twisting himself then twisting the stocking, one leg was covered in beautifully sheer black nylon. The second stocking was dealt with more quickly than the first until finally Mike was left with only the pink and white lacy panties to try. He picked them up then stood up, off the bed he'd been sitting on. Bending down he put his feet into the leg holes then slowly drew the panties up. This simple action was accompanied by unexpected sensations. Mike had never thought that pulling on a pair of knickers would be so pleasurable. First there was the rustle of the lace on the stockings. Then there was the brush of the panties on his bare thighs and a second's fumbling as the suspender clips got in the way. Finally Mike straightened up, at last dressed in the underwear that had dominated his thoughts for so long. His first thought was how much more wonderful it was to be wearing lingerie than he had imagined. He turned to look at himself in the mirror on his wardrobe. He gasped with pleasure at the sight of himself. The shining black nylons, the pink-and-white panties and suspenders were so pretty and feminine that Mike wondered why he had never dared try them before. It was then that Mike knew that he had made a decision that would stay with him forever. He knew that to live without the possibility of dressing in female underwear would be unbearable. At every opportunity after that, Mike would go into Jane's drawers and try her lingerie. Although he was never caught there were some near misses. None of these put him off. As far as he knew, his secret was safe.
    Finally the time came when Sean and Jane were able to put a deposit on a flat and move out. Mike was roped into the moving party and spent a whole Saturday helping. He helped with very mixed feelings - on the one hand he was glad that his brother and his sister-in-law had found somewhere to really start their new life together. This meant however that there was no further access to Jane's lingerie, so Mike also felt sad on his own account. During the moving day it felt as if all Mike's hopes were disappearing. He had no money to buy any lingerie of his own. The thought had crossed his mind that if he'd had the money, he wouldn't have the courage. By the time the move was completed, Mike was worn out both by the work and by his boiling emotions. He got home, had some food and took a shower before flopping on his bed. He dozed off for a while, waking when he felt a pain in his neck. The pillow felt oddly hard in one spot, so he reached underneath expecting to find the rolled-up T-shirt and boxer shorts that he normally wore in bed. Mike's hand connected with something that felt more like paper than cotton, so, intrigued, he pulled the pillow away to reveal a small package. Written on the front, in Jane's writing was the single word 'Mike'. By now Mike was thoroughly confused so he tore the plain brown paper open. There was a card under the paper, which Mike opened. He read: Dear Mike, thank you so much for all the help you've given us getting moved. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of everybody, so I left you a little something. I'd guessed you'd been visiting my room so I thought I'd return the compliment... On reading this, Mike blushed scarlet. He thought he'd been so careful! After the initial shock he calmed down enough to read the rest of the note. ...I'm pretty perceptive, you know, even though I do seem a bit scatterbrained at times. A girl always knows when she's been raided! Especially when she has a brother about your age who shares your interests. Please accept my gift with my thanks and don't worry. No one else knows about my brother... or my brother in law! Love Janexxx Mike was filled with mixed feelings, but it didn't stop him from unwrapping his package. His trembling fingers clumsily ripped away the paper and tape. Inside he saw a hint of white then pink...Could it be..? He pulled the contents out and finally, on his bed lay two pairs of black nylon stockings and a new set of the beautiful lingerie that he had first tried on... The End

Nov 201520

Sounding Like a Woman

frequently asked questions, how to guides

SOUNDING LIKE A WOMAN

Fortunately for us, there is no such thing as a 'normal female voice'. Our voices are almost as individual as our faces, and any individual voice is capable of great variation. We can speak nasally, harshly or huskily almost at will. You will, no doubt, think your voice is too low in pitch, but bear in mind that pitch is only one factor in a voice, and other factors can compensate for low pitch. Earth Kitt's voice, for example, is very low pitched, but is unmistakeably feminine. In fact, a low pitched feminine voice can sound very sexy. It is important to remember that your are not trying to get a completely new voice, just to feminise your own existing voice. Your dialect or accent should be preserved, and you should be careful to keep your individuality. Relaxed self confidence is a necessary first step in developing your new feminised voice. Undue tension in any part of the body will interfere with the easy functioning of the vocal chords. This is often accompanied by excessive concentration which also prevents natural speech. Before starting an exercise, stretch your muscles to remove any undue tension, and then relax. As much like a cat as possible, stretch and relax. Try to avoid doing the following speech therapy exercises when there is too much background noise - complete silence would be ideal. It may even be a good idea to draw the curtains to help dampen the sounds of the outside world. Stretch, and relax.... Breath Control After relaxation, breath control is the next most essential in feminising your voice. Good speech stems from breathing correctly and in a controlled way. If you cannot control your breath you will not be able to control your voice. Stand with your body weight slightly forward, with heels lightly on the ground, shoulders loose and head erect. Take a deep breath and allow it to escape slowly and evenly. Practise this once or twice before attempting to use your breath to speak. When you do speak, be careful not to spend all of your breath at the beginning of the phrase. You should have enough to last comfortably until the end of the phrase, or even have a little left over. Allow any extra breath to escape without sound. A puff of air at the end of the phrase is both unnecessary and unfeminine. Controlling your breath as above, repeat the following phrases: I am going shopping today Could you tell me the time please? Can I try this blouse on please? Practise these over and over, until you're happy with your breath control.  
  sounding2.jpgPitching Right Male voices are generally lower in pitch than those of females. Therefore, a woman with a very low voice and male inflection stands out. Pitch and tonal range are not the only differences between male and female voices - only a part of the difference. The object of these exercises is not to produce a falsetto, but to incorporate higher notes into your speaking range. The voice is closely integrated with personality. Inflection, volume and voice quality are used to express emotion. Trust your natural femininity and have fun with the exercises! Continued relaxation is very important - stretch and relax... Pitch is determined by the degree of tension in the muscles controlling the vocal chords, which are in turn controlled by your own perception of the sound you are making. When you want to sing a note, you don't tense your vocal chords deliberately - instead, you hear the note in your mind and the vocal chords adjust themselves, the process is subconscious. Speech works in the same way. Vocal muscles can, however, be exercised - and flexibility improved - provided that you have plenty of breath and keep your neck and throat muscles relaxed. Before starting any exercise, here are a few points to remember: Avoid smokey areas Avoid stress so you can develop a pattern of relaxed and easy breathing Develop a different speech rhythm - melodic rather than a business-like staccato pattern based on a narrow range of notes. Bearing this in mind, try counting 1-2-3... 1-2-3... 1-2-3...... Then, raising the pitch a little (though still speaking, not singing), repeat again. Keep practising at different pitches, and the exercise will help you to add a more melodic character to your voice. Voice Variety In this exercise, the voices you use should all be very different. Try to approach each as best you can, but don't be disheartened if your first efforts are disappointing. Variety is the spice of life - try as many different voices and pitches as you want... Husky Feminine Voice - "It is time I went home now" Low pitched, but less husky voice - "It is time I went home now" Medium pitch feminine voice - "It is time I went home now" Higher pitched voice - "It is time I went home now" Try them all again and again until you feel confident in a variety of voices - you can learn to use all these voices in everyday speech to express your different emotions, just as we all use our own male versions naturally.  
  Setting the tone A further difference between male and female voices is their tone. In puberty female vocal chords lengthen and the lining of the pharynx becomes thicker and softer. This produces a mellow, soft tone. Male vocal chords increase in mass and length, and the pitch descends. These tonal differences can be manipulated by using exercises to lengthen the vowels. Working on neatening your pronunciation will also pay dividends. Research shows that women's pronunciation is 'correct' for a greater proportion of the time than is men's. However, this does not mean that you need to change your accent - merely to be more careful in the way you speak. Stretch and relax. Breathe easily... Sound the first letter of the phrases softly, feel your mouth forming the sounds, and stretch the vowels a little: OO L-ah L-ah Ahoy ahoy - stretch to A--hoy ahoy that ship ahoy Cold, cold, it is so very cold Boom, boom, the gun went boom Stretch and relax. Breathe easily... now try it again... Once you are satisfied with your lengthened vowels, at least for the present, you can move on to your inflection. Quality Inflection When we speak we do not do so in a monotone. Rather, our pitch rises and falls naturally. This modulation of pitch is known as inflection, and it is this that gives our voices their expressive qualities. Inflection is especially important in personal conversation - it shows whether or not we are listening attentively. Many of the diffferences between male and female voices - especially in inflection - arise from the kind of things we say. An employer does not coo softly at someone receiving a reprimand, nor does one bellow sweet nothings into the ear of a lover. Generally speaking, women use inflection more than men. This reflects their nurturing role with children - although the quality is still visible in women who do not have (or want) children. The next exercise is designed to improve your inflection. Stretch and relax. Breathe easily. Then try saying: OH - (pitch drops) No - What (pitch drops) a (pitch drops) pi - (pitch drops) -ty I can't (pitch drops) and I (pitch drops) won't (pitch drops) believe (pitch drops) it Step (pitch rises) up Step (pitch drops) down Be (pitch drops) qui- (pitch drops) -et!  
  Putting it all together It is time to put together everything we have learnt so far. So, stretch and relax, breathe easily, then repeat the following nonsense rhyme, trying out all that you have learnt: Dong Dong Dong! Bonged the great big gong. The Hong Kong gong Had a long sad song Of woe and wrong, Of woe and wrong! Bong Bong Bong Dong Dong Dong Bong Bong Bong Bong! Dong Dong Dong You can hear the gong In old Cantong. The Hong Kong gong In old Cantong You can scarcely hear the gong The Bong-Dong gong Remember, it is all a question of practice - and if you can manage to clearly recite the above rhyme, while paying attention to the techniques we've covered, you'll know you've made excellent progress. Try listening to yourself with a tape recorder, and continue to work on your breath control, tone, variety and inflection until you are happy with the way you sound. Stretch and relax, breathe deeply... Stretch and relax, breathe deeply... Good luck! For a more in-depth guide to elecution, please see our Speech Therapy Course which includes four audio cassettes, which take you through voice exercises allowing you to practice and evaluate your progress.

Nov 201520

Whats In Your Handbag

frequently asked questions, how to guides

WHATS IN YOUR HANDBAG

I think the oddest thing in mine is a four-inch nail. No - it's not for emergency repairs to the dancefloor after I've been dancing, but more of that in a bit. First, a few things which are not in my handbag... Once upon a time, when I had a larger handbag, it always contained a hairbrush. My current one does not. Before putting on my wig I brush it thoroughly. However, touching up the wig (once it's on my head) is better done with the fingers. Brushing can leave the wig with a flat, unnatural look. Fingering creates a more untidy appearance which looks much more natural. So - when I'm out strutting my stuff I don't need a hairbrush. I sometimes carry a spare stocking or two in case of ladders, but there aren't any in my bag at the moment. The darker the stockings one wears, the more important this is - the slightest damage to a black stocking is glaringly obvious. Currently, mine are pale - a shade the manufacturer calls 'natural'. With these, the sort of damage stockings pick up on the dancefloor is very hard to see. They don't last forever of course, but they are wearable in a worse state than black ones. The down side to this is that the paler the stockings, the better job you need to make of shaving your legs! Another thing absent from my handbag is money. It's hard to dance with a bag flapping about on your shoulder. For disco numbers, there's a kind of teenage charm about dancing around your handbag, but it's a bit limiting - having to keep to a single spot on the dancefloor. When it comes to ballroom dancing, the bag is just a nuisance. It's best just to leave the bag where you're sitting, but an unattended handbag containing money is not a good idea. My money goes into a little purse on my belt - it looks a tad like a hand grenade, but it is very useful!  
  handbag3.jpgAlso absent are most of the make-up products I use - foundation, blusher and eye make-up are all missing. I've tried carrying these, but found that once they were on they were on for the night. The only make-up items I carry with me are a couple of products genuinely useful for repairs during the course of an evening. One item of make-up I do carry with me is face powder, with a couple of little pads to apply it. Dancing in a wig is a hot business. They say that horses sweat, men perspire, while ladies only glow. A night at the disco can have me glowing like a pig. As the glow trickles down my face, a little extra dab of powder can fix a multitude of sins. I also use the powder as a base for lipstick - the other make-up product I carry. I tend to suffer from slightly greasy lips and used to have a lot of difficulty in getting the lipstick to take, especially on the lower lip. A bit of powder (not too much) leaves my lips dry and ready for the colour. Actually, I use the lipstick more often during the course of the evening than the powder. A little bit of extra lippie can do wonders to a face that's starting to lack something or other. More - there's something deliciously feminine about sitting down and putting on your lipstick. Along with the lipstick, I also carry lip-liner - invaluable in defining a sharp edge to lips that have become smudged over the course of an evening. (See our make-upguide for hints on applying make-up) An essential accessory for both make-up products is a mirror. It's handy for checking whether more make-up is necessary,and indespensible for putting it on. I used to carry a plain rectangle or round mirror, but found it was apt to break if carried in a handbag. Apart from the risk of seven years' bad luck, broken glass is dangerous and certainly not what I want to find on thrusting my hand into the bag. It also spoils the impression, sitting down doing one's lips with a shard of broken mirror in the left hand - deliciously femme?? Get real! The mirror I use today is actually 2 mirrors, normal and enlarging. They are in a solidly constructed hinged case which, when shut, preserves them from harm. Both mirrors are useful - the normal one for checking the appearance of my whole face, the enlarging one for work on my lips.  
  handbag.jpgTransgender Resources A Survival Kit for a Night on the Town, By Annie Peters Lipstick is not the only thing that can wear off during the evening, and I also carry a small perfume spray. I think it's important to smell nice as well as look good. Spraying it on is, of course, another action in the deliciously feminine category, but don't overdo it - your fragrance should not precede you by too much! Less feminine is a handkerchief - and not a delicate lacy one, at that. I have already mentioned 'glowing like a pig'. When the glow stings the eyes something substantial is needed to blot it. Used with reasonable delicacy, the hankie can be better than a tissue for mopping up the glow without wrecking the eye make-up. Carrying tissues as well could be a good idea - but I tend to use a bit of paper from the toilet. It does well enough, and avoids the accumulation of a layer of disintegrated tissue at the bottom of my bag. In some places the toilets run out of paper - but more can sometimes be had if one has the gumption to ask at the bar. Much more ladylike than a hankie is a nail file in a little plastic case. Rough nails not only look less than perfectly femme, but wreck stockings. It also has a little hook at the end for removing dirt. Dirty nails - varnished or otherwise - are a real no-no. Also metal are four small safety pins. I keep them pinned together for convenience - a solitary safety pin at the bottom of the bag is very hard to find, and when a safety pin is needed it's usually needed in a hurry. A cluster of four pins is much easier to locate. Their purpose (need I tell you girls) is emergency repair to clothes. At the bottom of the bag, with the pins, is a small card with a dozen or more kirby-grips. The grips can be useful for keeping a wig fixed to one's real hair - especially if the wig's webbing is past its first flush of youth. Another use for a hair grip is to pin back one's real hair if it seems determined to escape from the confines of the wig. That's especially important if wig and real hair are different colours. And that leaves only... the four inch nail. It's for the toilet. As a trannie out on the town, one has to be careful about using toilets at all. There are places - mostly gay - where there isn't any great problem about using the ladies, but it shouldn't be taken for granted. Be careful, and check it out first - but it is sometimes possible. In several ladies toilets I've used, the sliding part of the bolt has been missing from the cubicle doors. A nightmare scenario is to be sat there with my knickers down, only to have a woman with more sensibility than sense burst in on me. At best, a trannie is only allowed in the ladies under sufferance - and there are limits one must not cross. So... slide the four inch nail into the bolt fixings and it's securely held. A handy tip, perhaps. Remember, you read it here first!

Nov 201520

Silicone Siloxane Breast Manufacturing

frequently asked questions, how to guides

SILICONE SILOXANE BREAST MANUFACTURING

Ultra thin, high tear strength PUR translucid film ( the external skin of a breast form) High purity, high durability silicone gel. We use siloxane oligomers as raw material for the polymerisation of the vinyl end capped and addition cross linkable poly siloxane polymer. f880_1945genresbreasts.jpg High efficiency platinum catalysts (the platinum compound promotes the cure of the silicone to a gel consistency). Adhesion Promotion compound (to ensure perfect adhesion of the silicone gel to the PUR skin for maxium durability of the breast form).  f880_1946genresbreasts.jpg  
  We need to thermoform the outer skin into the shape of a front and back side breast form. This is done in a heated mold and vacuum. After the application of the silicone gel nipple inside the front skin and the completion of its curing cycle, we can then form a closed envelope by welding together front skin and back skin slongside its perimeter. Yet we leave a small orifice on the top of the envelope through which we shall fill in the liquid silicone gel later.   Now we need to prepare the silicone gel. After polymerizing and end capping the siloxane intermediate, we need to purify the resulting silicone gel polymer from volatile components by filtering and a following distillation process at 200 degrees C under high f880_1941genresbreasts.jpgvacuum. The result is a viscous, high purity, transparent, 100% silicone liquid with a content of 99.95% of non volatiles, a silcone polymer which is useful for medical applications. In order to form a silicone gel suitable for a breast form the polymer needs to be cross linked by means of a "cross linker compound" and a platinum catalyst.       To "cure" the polymer to a gel, we now admix the cross linker/Platinum compound in an adequate ratio to accomplish a life like mobility and consistency. The silicone polymer, cross linker and platinum compounds are now inspected by quality control and released for manufacturing.   Now we fill the liquid cross linker compound and platinum catalyst containing silicone gel into the skin envelope. After curing the silicone polymer to a gel the breast forms are being conducted to the finishing department. Finally the filling orifice is closed, the excess skin trimmed and after a final inspection the breast forms are ready to be packed into master cartons for warehousing and shipping.

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