RELUCTANT PRESS

an offer you won't refuse," predating a similar phrase used in the film THE GODFATHER by some 40 years.

In 1938 two and six was quite a lot of money. In any case, I was dying to try on the frock.

"Oh, all right," I said with seeming reluctance.

"You can go and get my bag right now and take out twoand-sixpence in advance. Ooh, what bribery and corruption for a ten minute job," she laughed. "All the same, I think you are an absolute dear. We're much the same height but I think we are going to have to pad you up a tiny bit. Darling, you are going to need a bit of bosom (the word 'boobs' hadn't been invented yet) and I think I'd prefer you a bit fuller around the hips."

So saying, she got up and started to rummage around in her lingerie drawer and returned with a long-line bra and a girdle that seemed to be already padded. Thinking about it now, it is hard to believe that the whole afternoon hadn't been preplanned!

"Slip this on and I'll do you up at the back," she said, handing me the bra, "then you can go and put this padded girdle on. I forget now how I come to have it here; Doreen had it made for a stage production of Charlie's Aunt she directed two years ago and it is certainly coming in useful now." The bra felt so snug as she did it up at the back.

"I'm going to bunch some of my stockings up to fill it out a bit," she said, now totally preoccupied. "I'm 34 inches and I want you exactly the same."

She took out her tape measure and proceeded to measure me across my new bosom.

"I do believe we have got it right first time; you are exactly 34 inches too now! Off you go now and squeeze into that girdle. I want my 'dummy' to be about 36 inches," she said smiling.

I disappeared into the bathroom and slipped the girdle on and emerged feeling a little shy and self-conscious.

JOYCE'S GIRLS BY JOYCE

"Really, dear, there is no need to look so sheepish. That looks perfectly all right on you, not unlike a pair of swimming trunks, in fact," she said matter of factly.

In her hand was a merry widow waspie.

"Now I am just going to fit this round your midriff because your shape is a bit too much like a test-tube and it needs to be in a bit here," giving me a playful squeeze on the tummy. "You'll have to breathe in a little bit but it won't be for long."

She proceeded to do it up at the front. If she saw my throbbing pulse she pretended not to notice.

"There, now let's have a look at you. That looks absolutely right!" she exclaimed in triumph. "You know, you are an absolute darling to help me get this right."

She gave me a little peck on the cheek as she said this. "It's a job that is almost impossible to do on oneself and you are a super darling dummy. Oh, dear, I am going to have to put a petticoat on you too; with all this elasticised gear I have put on you, the dress won't ride well unless there is a petti between it and all this stuff," she said, giving the girdle a little slap.

I could hardly trust myself to speak. "Uh huh," was all I could muster.

Dear, dear reader, please believe me, (but then you are one of the inner circle, aren't you!) it felt FANTASTIC! It was all I could do to keep myself from trembling.

A gorgeous petticoat was duly slipped over my head, satin it was, trimmed with lace. Grief, why are woman's clothes so much more fun than men's?

The dress she was making was a silky blue floral of large design. By this time, I had blissfully abandoned myself to my feminisation it was all like a dream and the unfinished garment was slipped over my head, zipped up and belted.

"Now turn around, I want to see the back. Yes, that's lovely. Darling, you're being a marvelous help," she said with sincerity and gave me another little hug.

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