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

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

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

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

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

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

Why is this an advantage?

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

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

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

But things were conspiring against me..

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

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

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

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

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

THAT MONDAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After an age of choice, I found my heaven.

A Basque!

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

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

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

I played the embarrassed boyfriend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what about my cock?” I thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So Was I.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, it happened.

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

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

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

As my parents came in they asked me

“Did you have a nice day?”

“Not bad!” I replied.

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Oestrogen

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How to Safely Grow Female Breasts on Males

For any Male To Female Transformation to take place we need to block the Testosterone ( Male Hormones) that occur naturally in your body and replace them with the female hormone ( Oestrogen). These blockers are called Anti-Androgens and will help men who want to grow breasts. Taking oestrogen or other female hormones without taking anti-androgens will result in you wasting your money. If you have passed puberty as a male then your testes and adrenal glands will be flooding your bloodstream with testosterone which is the dominant male hormone and is responsible for your voice deepening,  changes in skin texture, male coarse body and facial hair. High levels of testosterone reaching the hair follicles also lead to male pattern baldness. We offer an extensive range of male hormone blockers in the form of pills, capsules, transdermal anti-androgens and suppositories so there is a product suitable for you no matter what your age or medical condition.

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

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

Silicone Breasts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Developed

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

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

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

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

Relationship

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emma's Story- A Short Story

Chapter One. The beginning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Two. Developments.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Three. A surprise bath!

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

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

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

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

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

Emma

It took 41 years to finally accept that I should have been born a girl. I have dressed up since the age of 5 (albeit in secrecy).

I found it not only easy to do, because I had plenty of opportunity with having two elder sisters (four and five years older) who were out working while I was still at school, but I also found it, the most natural thing to do. I would get home from school and go straight to my sisters bedroom and try on different dresses. Everything fitted perfectly and felt just right to touch.

The problem I had with it was that it was okay doing it in the privacy of my home, with no one about, but I wanted to live my life like that and be seen as I felt inside, a girl.

It’s almost as if I wanted to get caught by someone. I know the punishment would have been: “So you want to dress like a girl do you? Well, you can wear that for school tomorrow – that’ll teach you!” (Not a punishment in my book.)

When I was 11, it was the Scouts’ Christmas party, and we were all to go in fancy dress. I had heard that two of the older Scouts were going in girls clothes, and I told my Mom that everyone was going as girls. Mom got some of my sister’s clothes and set to work. I acted ignorant about how to put tights on so Mom had to do it for me. I didn’t want her to think I knew what I was doing. She seemed quite pleased with the end result (I was too), but I could not tell her the dress she had selected was also one of my favourites and had been worn on many occasions before.

She also got me a pair of my sister’s platform boots to wear – I had not seen these before and loved them immediately. I walked to the Scout hut (good excuse, I thought) only to find out the party was the following week. With that I just walked home dejected and disappointed, but taking my time. I wanted to make the best of this opportunity.

When I got home I explained the mix up to my Mom not knowing if she would believe it or not. She seemed to believe me, but she did say that next week I could dress myself. The following week came and I got no help from my Mom so I put my thumb straight through the leg of the tights that I was pretending to put on like a novice.

I still didn’t want them to know that I knew what I was doing. It worked, but this time it was my elder sister to the rescue, and she even applied make up which my Mom had not done the week before – much better this time. The local paper was there and took a group photo of us all. When reading the paper my Mom wanted to know why everyone wasn’t dressed as girls, I told her that the ones who did (all three of us) had been set up by the others. A lie I know, but worth it…

I remember when I was about 12; I must have left something in a different place than it should have been in one of my sister’s drawers. Whatever it was, I knew that they suspected something. My Mom came into my bedroom one morning, as I was getting ready for school, with a pair of my sisters knickers. “Your sister is throwing these out, she wondered if you wanted them”? So I was right, they did suspect me. Quite naturally I took them off my Mom and put them on and looked at her and said, “I can’t wear these Mom they don’t look like underpants they look girlie.”

“Well, I did say that to her but I said I’d ask,” she said. I passed that test with flying colours, though I often wonder what might of happened if I had owned up to it, told them how I felt and wore them. Trips to the shrink I think?

The dressing up still continued but I was very careful from then on – but not careful enough. I had stolen a bra and a pair of panties from my elder sisters drawer and hid them in a tin under my bed with the rest of the junk I kept there. I used to put these on under my clothes to deliver my paper round morning and night.

I got in one night from playing with my friends and found my bed on the landing while my Dad was putting up new wallpaper. My Mom had totally emptied the bedroom of all its contents. When my Dad had finished, everything was put back in my bedroom. Everything, except for my tin with the bra and panties in it. I knew I had been discovered, and I was waiting for something to be said. Nothing ever was. I think they must have decided that I might grow out of it, so not to make a fuss about it and make matters worse.

From then on my hiding places were better thought out.

Over the years, I have used all sorts of excuses to wear female clothing in public, from fancy dress, plays (Rocky Horror Picture Show), charity work and even music (I used to have a group and would start off with ‘I Want To Break Free’ dressed like Freddie Mercury in the video).

Once with my first wife I put on a pair of stockings and suspenders (I jokingly said, “lets try something kinky”) and we had great sex, but the next time I suggested the stockings the look on her face said enough.

I divorced 3 years later (not because of the incident above) and met my wife of now. We have been together now for 16 years (11 living together and 5 married). I had told my new wife about the incident above and she said, “I can’t see any harm in that.” So I said, “lets try something kinky” and she didn’t bat an eyelid, but went straight to her drawer and got a pair of stockings out and helped me into them. This became a regular event, and we both enjoyed great sex, which led to my wife buying me my first set of my own underwear. She never once pulled a face or laughed at me, but helped me into whatever she had bought me.

But things still niggled me; I still did not feel happy within myself. I am a 41-year-old man with a bald head and hair everywhere else (back, chest, legs and face). Wearing female clothing as I was doing was alright for sex with my wife but it still didn’t feel right, something was missing. Basically I looked like a man dressed as a woman, hairy arms and legs and a chest like a gorilla. Also at the end of sex, I did not have an excuse to keep wearing what I had on, so off it came leaving me feeling empty inside.

I never once dressed up behind my wife’s back. I would only ever do it with her permission; I think that honesty is very important between each other.

2 years ago I had a terrible injury in work, smashing my left hand. I couldn’t do much with it. Sex with my wife stopped for 18 months – I can’t give you a definite reason why, it certainly wasn’t anything to do with my wife, but pain in my left hand was some of it. The rest of it I put down to not knowing what I was going to do. I found it hard to get my mind to concentrate on one thing (sex), when all I was thinking about doing was coming up with an excuse for putting on the clothes my wife had just took off. My wife never complained about the lack of sex but I knew it was hurting her.

I had taken 2 months off work over the Christmas period just gone, and gave a great deal of thought to my situation and finally came to terms with how I felt. For the last thirty something years I have only ever dreamed of being a woman, and it’s about time I at least accepted that fact. My wife is a very understanding person, I should at least tell her the truth, and put her mind at ease. Time to come clean, and hope it doesn’t hurt anyone.

Having sat my wife down, I showed her the page on the Transformation website Why am I a TV. There were a few tears on both sides (hers, because she thought that I did not love her or find her attractive anymore. Mine because I hate upsetting her, she is the last person on earth I would ever upset.)

After she had read the website and a few contributions from myself, I knew that she fully understood what my problem was and agreed that I could do what I have always wanted, dress as a female whenever I wanted, given the right time and the right place.

After that talk with my wife, I got my razor out and made a start shaving. I also had to think of a name for myself, I’ve noticed how a lot of TV femme names are simply a female name similar to their male name. Why be different, John to Jane works all right for me.

The biggest discussion was about breasts. I have always wanted my own, and after buying a pair of cheap false breasts, we both agreed they do not look or feel like the real thing. So with my wife’s permission I have just started hormone treatment (she even applied the first lot of cream to both breasts and nipples!).

We gave a great deal of thought to what the potential could be and also what problems might occur (bald man in shower at work with 38B chest) we don’t want to broadcast the Transformation I am approaching, so all possibilities had to be looked at. (I would hide my breasts when in public; I have a few ideas for this.)

But no surgery! I do not want to make a decision that cannot be reversed for several reasons. Most importantly my wife still wants a husband (regardless of how he looks or what he is wearing) and I still want to make love to my Wife. I suppose if I’d had the option to choose 30 years ago I would not have hesitated.

So in a strange way I am now getting the best of both worlds, with the right partner not only to understand, but also to take part in my fantasies and encourage them, and finally having admitted to myself and my wife that I am not weird but confused a little. It’s nice to know that I am not on my own in this, I have the full support of the best friend I could ever have – my wife.

There are a lot of people out there just like me, some more confused, some less. I feel the only way forward is to embrace things for what they are and make the best of it. At least being open with my wife about it has cleared a lot of pain for the two of us. We now know where we are coming from, and where we are going. And we are both enjoying it.

My wife knows roughly what kind of clothing I like and she has the experience to know what I can get away with and what I can’t. She buys me at least one full set of underwear per week. Something I haven’t overcome yet – fear of someone guessing our secret. I was always capable of buying sexy lingerie for my wife, but haven’t got the confidence to walk in and buy for myself. I guess it’s a paranoid phobia, thinking that the shop assistant will suspect the suspenders, panties, bra, skirt and top are for me, and not my wife.

Not only is my underwear draw getting full, but I now have two wigs, 4″ stillettos, 2″ court shoes and several skirts and tops (plus anything my wife lets me try on of hers). We are a similar size.

Life at home is now fantastic (it was always good before). I get home from my job of work and jump straight in the bath. Once dry, I apply the breast hormone cream. Then on goes the correct clothing to my mood. Once dressed my wife at first applied the make up, but after a short while, she put her foot down, saying, “no, you do it, I’ll watch.” Her theory behind this being that if I didn’t try, I’d never learn.

This does work quite well, because if I do make a mistake, she points it out there and then, so it is easier to rectify before I have applied any more make up. Surprisingly to myself, I am getting the hang of it (too little looks better than too much). Then to finish it all off, on goes the wig.

Once again, the wife showed me how to make it look just right. The 4″ stilettos gave us both a laugh – I nearly broke my neck trying to walk in them – but with practice walking round the household, I have mastered them.

I agreed with my Wife that coming out to the public was very risky. Where I live people don’t like anything different from the “Blinkered” upbringing they know (it’s a fishing fishing community). However, I would like to go to one of the TV clubs and meet more people like myself who will treat me with the same understanding that they ask for themselves. I think my wife might enjoy the club as well, as she could meet other saints like herself.

It’s amazing how after all this, our lives are back on track with each other, swapping jokes, ideas, clothes and making love better than ever before. A clear conscience can work wonders for a troubled mind. It certainly did mine.

To walk around my town dressed up without an excuse is out of the question, but if a fancy dress party does pop up I know a Gal who can’t wait to get her party gown on!

Hugs and Kisses, Jane DuCidre.

It started when I was eleven years old, my fascination for girl's clothing and crossdressing that is. I remember watching my older sister Katie walk around in skirts, dresses, blouses, all clothing that was infinitely better than anything I wore. It looked nicer, and when I hugged Katie, her clothes felt nicer against my skin, a lot nicer. There were times when I was left on my own in the house; my parents were either at work or out for the afternoon, and my sister was visiting her friends. I had freedom of the house, and since my fascination started, I had only wanted to do one thing: try on my sister's clothing. Many would have found it weird, an eleven-year-old boy wanting to try on girls clothing. I didn't really care at the time, I didn't know what kind of effects it would have on my future. At the time, when life seemed simple, I only saw it to be innocent curiosity that drove me to try on my sister's clothes. I didn't have any idea about the culture that followed it, I didn't know that men and women dressed in clothing of the opposite gender as a lifestyle choice, I would find that out much later in my life. When I entered my sister's room, I had an idea of what it would be like. Pink, filled with girly things ranging from dolls to make up to posters of boy bands and actors. I was definitely mistaken. At the time my sister was sixteen and going through her GCSE's. Her room was painted a cream colour, very few posters decorated the walls, shelves were filled with books and not dolls, and she had a large wardrobe up against the wall. That was my first port of call. I opened it up and was stunned to see everything hanging up so neatly. My sister was a bit of a neat freak, everything was out of place, and it was rumoured that she could see from a first glance whether or not something was out of place. I always believed that Katie had some sort of second sight for these things. It was proved right when I was first caught by her. Coincidently, it was also the same day I started trying on girl's clothing.

When my parents and Katie had gone out, leaving me alone, I went into her room and opened up Katie's wardrobe. I was instantly drawn to the dresses. She had an ankle-length purple dress with straps. Now on Katie, it would have gone down to her ankles, but when I tried it on, it went down to the floor and even bunched up leaving a small tail of fabric. It didn't matter to me at the time; I simply stripped to my underwear and slipped the dress on over me. It didn't even need to unbutton the back of the dress. I looked at myself in the mirror that was placed on the inside of the door. My green eyes staring at the figure in the oversized dress. I felt the satin against my skin, and I liked it. I still looked like a little boy trying on adult clothes though, I had short brown hair back then, my parents choosing my hair cuts and how I looked for my time at school. I was going to take the dress and hang it back up to try on another item of my sister's clothing when I heard the door open. Someone stepped inside, and I was unaware who it was until I Katie shout up to me. "Rain! I'm home," she called out to me. I guess you are wondering about my name. Yes, I am called Rain. My full name is Rain Alexander Edmonds. My sister is Katie Elizabeth Edmonds and my mother and father are called Rebecca and John Edmonds respectively. I don't know why my parents named me Rain, it wasn't to do with the weather, I was born on Saturday, October 20th, 1990, and according to my parents and sister it was a sweltering hot day so how Rain came into the conversation is a mystery. Anyway, back to the story.

When I found that my sister returned; the first thing that went through my mind was a close resemblance of the words "oh crap" ran through my mind. I still hadn't changed out of Katie's dress and my clothes were strewn over the floor. I was going to be found and instantly my mind told me to hide. I immediately jumped into the wardrobe and closed the door behind me. I remember that exact feeling when I was hiding from my sister. My heart was pounding, it felt like it was going to burst from my chest in a similar style to the Alien Quadrilogy. It would have solved some problems though, first off I would have been dead, and I wouldn't have to face my sister's wrath when she found I had tried on her clothes. She probably would have tried to resurrect my body and then kill me all over again for it. "Rain, where are you?" I could hear Katie from outside the room, and I hoped she would think I was somewhere else. This was the moment I found my sister really did have second sight. I overheard her muttering that she had shut the door to the bedroom before she left, and I foolishly left it open. She knew I would be in her room, and the fact that my clothes were left out for all to see didn't help that. "Come on Rain, I know you are in here. If you don't come out until the count of five then I will be forced to tell mum and dad," she stated with a calm and methodical voice. Katie didn't raise her tone, she didn't have to.

Knowing that Katie would tell our parents that I had been hiding in her room was really the only contributing factor of actually giving myself up. That and if I had continued to hide in her wardrobe, any chance of denying it would be useless considering I had left my clothes out. She started counting down, and I knew it was now or face the wrath of my parents. They would never have understood it back then, but it was likely that they had taken it down to a phase in growing up. The old 'curiosity killed the cat' saying. They would have forgotten it, and just told me never to do it again. I didn't even know how my sister would have reacted, but it didn't matter. I had to come clean and so, I pushed open the door to the wardrobe and shuffled out into the plain sight of my sister. For a moment Katie was quiet, she just stared at me. I was expecting her to start shouting and screaming at me, ordering me out of the dress and to get changed. I was definitely wrong. Katie hugged me. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, a smile was on her face. I was dumbfounded, awestruck, amazed that I wasn't deaf from the screaming and shouting that I had originally expected. She in fact explained to me that she had really wanted a little sister instead of a brother. I didn't understand it at the time, but if I did fully take into account the words back then I might have been offended, but I knew she still loved me. Katie told me she was happy having a little brother, and when she saw me wear her dress, she actually liked it. Sure she was a bit annoyed that I tried her dress on without asking, but she didn't let it overshadow the clear fact we had just come closer together. I explained to her my reasons, why I was wearing her dress and hiding from her. The fact that I liked the look and feel of girl's clothing, and was curious to try something on. Katie asked me if I liked it, and I said yes. I truly did like wearing Katie's dress, and I told her that I wanted to try more clothes on.

What she did next definitely surprised me. She took the dress off me and hung it up, instructing me to get changed into my previous clothes. When I was finished, Katie told me to follow her down to the basement. Now at the time when I was eleven years old, I had in fact been scared of the basement. My grandfather told me stories of monsters in the basement, and I'm ashamed to say that I believed him to that point. It turned out that our parents had kept boxes of old clothes going back in the years. Every outfit of value and importance was sitting in the cases. My first football kit. Katie's first ballet outfit. Both mine and Katie's school uniforms from the school. Our parents had the odd habit of sorting things out into boxes with the ages written on, and it actually helped Katie with what she was doing. My sister brought out a box of clothes from when she was eleven years old. That was a great year, apparently. My aunt and uncle got married, Katie finished primary school, she performed the lead role in a ballet recital of Swan Lake, and there was the first family vacation, a cruise to the Mediterranean. The outfits were going to be for me. Katie explained to me that she had always wanted a younger sister so that she could have someone to practice giving make-overs, and dressing up. Now that she had found out I wanted to wear girl's clothing more, she explained to me that she was going to dress me up and give me the make-overs she had wanted to give to a little sister. I was filling the shoes of being Katie's younger sister, even if it was only at random dates and times. It would only happen when the parents were out. We would have started that day, but unfortunately, our parents had returned earlier than expected. It didn't matter to me, or to Katie though. It was the start of something new, a fun new experience that would bring us closer together as siblings.

The first time we had together was the following weekend. Our parents had been invited to a ball in London. Katie had managed to talk them into allowing her to stay and look after me, without the help of our grandparents. During the week, Katie was only at school for half of each day and had a day off on Thursday. During that time she went shopping, and she purchased a wig, along with a few essential supplies. The Saturday that my parents left, we got started. I found out about the wig, it was a blonde wig in the style of a pixie cut. At first, I was nervous about what was going to happen to me. The first chance to dress up had been going through my mind, it caused me to lose track of my school work at some points during lessons. My parents weren't too pleased about it, but they just told me to pay attention at school. No one asked why I was distracted, something I was pleased to have avoided, but I could have easily used any excuse to get out of that. Luckily, the weekend came by quite quickly though, and soon, the Saturday my parents left for London came around, and Katie and I were left alone. I thought we were going to start with what Katie called a 'dressing up session' straight away, but my sister had other ideas first. She told me to wait upstairs, and so I did. I sat for an hour playing computer games, at the same time I was getting anxious, I couldn't wait to try on the clothes, and when the time came, Katie called me down to the basement. Katie had been busy; she moved things around, creating two separate areas. The first area consisted of an old vanity table that had taken Katie a great deal of time to move out and to fix the vanity mirror back on. It was made of white wood, and it had sat in their parent's bedroom before they replaced it with the current vanity mirror. On top of that were numerous articles of makeup ranging from false nails to false lashes, along with lipstick, mascara, eyeliner pencils and eye shadow sets. Various blush colours were ready, and the contributing brushes. Numerous foundation tubs were waiting with cotton wall pads. Next to the mirror, was a bust of some person head made from marble. According to Katie, it was a very expensive piece in which they had to be careful. (Little did we realise that three years later, my dad would only go and break it while taking it to be appraised and possibly sold on.)

The second area was for dressing up. A clothing rack of all the outfits I would be trying on had been set up, with a dressing screen and a basket to put the clothing I had been wearing at the time. Nothing was spared, Katie had thought of everything for what they were going to do. She had prepared bottles of water and glasses, a few biscuits and some snacks, she had even brought the phone down into the basement so that if their parents phoned like they said they would, then we wouldn't raise suspicion by being late to answer. (Our parents once scolded my aunt and uncle for not answering the phone by a certain time when they looked after me and Katie. It was purely because of the fact we had been sat out in the garden enjoying the sun.)

"What do you think?" Katie asked as she watched me walk on towards the vanity table, and then walk onto the rack of clothing that she had laid out. Katie had brought her bridesmaid dress out, the white gown with the green sash wrapped around the waist, tied in a bow behind, and the puffed sleeves. A pair of green flats had been brought to wear with them. A pink gown with a darker pink sash, a dark pink rose attached to the front of the bodice and two strips of satin to wrap around the arms was hanging behind it. That had been Katie's gown when they went on the cruise. Her school uniform: A red pleated skirt, white long sleeve blouse, knee-high socks and a bow tie. (my sister went to an all girl's school that gave her more ideas than just being a make-up artist, but we'll get to that later.) Sitting at the bottom of the rack of clothes was a pair of black loathers that she wore. Quite cute, if I do say so myself. Slip-on with a bow at the front of both shoes. The next outfit was a costume that Katie had purchased during the week of Belle from Beauty and the Beast. There wasn't another outfit hanging on the rack after the Belle costume, but according to Katie, she was going to try and dig some more out for me, just to give an experience of wearing clothes other than those of a formal nature. I was both happy and nervous by that fact. I would have been happy with just trying on the outfits Katie had prepared beforehand. I knew what was coming, but hearing the prospect of something new being prepared gave me a small feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know what to expect. Still, whatever was going to happen was happening because I wanted it to. My sister didn't have to force me, she didn't have to use blackmail or threaten to tell the parents. The first part of the dressing up session was Katie sitting me down on the chair and getting to work. Katie worked on the foundation, covering my face and correcting the tone of my skin. Katie certainly was an expert at giving makeovers. While she worked, Katie explained to me that she had volunteered to help out at her school during the past year with the drama department, helping out with the make-overs for every actress that was performing. Of course, it was kept under wraps because of our parents, but I'm thankful that Katie actually kept up her make-up practice.

After about forty-five minutes of working on my make-up, I found myself looking like a little girl which I was stunned to see. I looked in the mirror and from that point on I was known as Rin (again, it's a strange name, I know. My sister liked to read fantasy novels, she still does.) and I was Katie's younger sister. The next task for us both was to get me dressed. My sister took me behind the dressing screen where she... well I won't go into detail. You probably get the idea of what happened. I emerged moments later in a white girl's underwear and a pink dressing gown. While I sat down and had a biscuit, Katie went on and prepared the first outfit. I was dressed up as Belle. Now that was a weird outfit. Petticoats on first, all three of them. I could never understand how women could wear those things. The gown afterwards was made of satin, and actually quite comfortable against my own body. I was surprised it fitted me. While I was being dressed, my sister explained that she purchased the outfit for a twelve-year-old. It would be a better fit on me than that of an outfit for an eleven-year-old. I didn't understand it back then, but as time went on I came to understand that every outfit was different in terms of the body shape. The body structure between men and women are different, and so that while costumes will be the same age, the shape of the female outfit will not always fit the male body. (God I hope that made sense.) The outfit had everything; the gloves, the shoes, even a wig, though we kept that off as it looked completely ridiculous. I wouldn't have looked like Belle. This wig was short, curled with ribbons in the hair and unfortunately very irritating. (Looking back on it, I think the wig was styled after the hairstyles of Southern Belles of America and not Belle from Disney movie.)

That afternoon, I relaxed and took the weight of keeping my crossdressing secret off of my shoulders. I was happy, thankful that Katie was there with me, talking me through the stages of getting dressed up, the fabrics used to create every outfit and what they meant to me. Katie explained everything. Amazingly, I was expecting something a little stranger and longer, but Katie dressed me in every outfit, explained what it included, and why they were being used and what for. A lot of it I had a vague idea, I remembered the cruise and what my sister had worn was for the formal evening dinners. That was just one of the gowns she wore, and as much as she looked, Katie couldn't find the other two evening dresses she wore, which, in all honesty, wasn't much of a problem. I had tried on numerous clothes at that point and there were other times in the future that Katie and I did similar activities.

That weekend, I was stunned to be offered £50 to be dressed in whatever my sister dressed me in, and while I was expecting something very feminine and scary, it wasn't too bad. During the rest of the afternoon and the evening, I was dressed in something similar to my sister's old school uniform. A pink knee-length skirt, white socks, pink trainers, a white long sleeve blouse and a denim waistcoat. That was before dinner, in which I was dressed in the bridesmaid dress that I had tried on a few hours before, and I slept in a set of baby blue footsie pyjamas. Amazing, one evening, a night and a morning of being dressed up by my sister and I earned £50 from it. I didn't tell anyone about it until I was seventeen years old and part of a college LGBT group. It was discussed between myself and my friends. The next morning, we found our parents wouldn't be back until later that evening, so it gave Katie enough time to set everything right. She cleared all of the make-up, and I helped with clearing up the basement, even while wearing my sister's chosen outfit. We got through the cleanup, and I was back into my original jogging bottoms and t-shirt by 4 that afternoon. Our parents returned an hour later, and they were none the wiser.

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