10TV FICTION CLASSICS "SANDY THOMAS

A final application of hairspray and she stepped away. "Oh, you have marvellous hair, Ken! I've got some great ideas I want to try."

"Hey, take it easy. What am I supposed to do now? Go out to the store like this? Can you please comb it to look normal?" It looked silly, the feathery ends framed my face in a soft way, while the layering gave it a tousled, casual look.

Mother pleaded, "Oh, please. Just leave it for now. I spent so much time getting it just so. You have to help me clean up around the house today anyway."

"Okay, okay. But I feel really silly." I said, but somehow I kept staring at my image in the mirror. Thinking of my dreamgirl, I wondered how she would look in this style. As my luck would have it, mother still hadn't run out of 'ideas'. Why not try a few more things just to see "how you would look on stage". She wouldn't take no for

an answer.

She scurried around her closet and drawers while I went into my room to take another private look in the mirror.

Hmmm...not a bad 'babe'. What was I thinking?!? I heard mom calling me back, so I took another look then returned to find what she had planned.

"Good grief! You're not serious," was my only comment. On her bed she had neatly laid out a matching pair of white, lace-edged panties and bra, a pair of sheer, tan pantihose, a white half slip, her favorite rose-colored dress and a pair of 3 inch high-heeled pumps.

"Please...it won't hurt you. Anyway, you'll have to get over your nervousness about wearing female costumes. That's what the letter said."

"What letter?", I asked.

"Oh...just a letter to parents which cleared up a few more things about getting you ready and the kind of...uh...'supplies' that I need to pack for you."

"So I'm supposed to get over being nervous in girl's costumes. That will be the day!"

Mother handed me the panties and turned her back so I could put them on. After taking off my own clothes, I pulled them up carefully over my maleness. Hmmm? They did feel very silky ..much nicer than cotton underwear, but surely I would never prefer them in a million years. Next she helped me with the rolling on of the pantihose. I was shown how to avoid making them run. So there I was wearing panties, and pantihose, my hair "done up", looking at myself in the mirror. Just for fun, I struck a girlish pose. My mother clapped her approval.

"Well, 'Miss Catherine', we must get you dressed for tea," she kidded. Before I knew it mother had slipped my arms through the straps

ACTING LIKE A GIRL -11

of the white bra and was hooking it up in back. I noticed that the cups were permanently padded...in fact the whole bra was brand new and couldn't have been my mother's size.

"Hey, where did you get this?"

"Oh, over in the lingerie department at Neimem's Department Store,' she replied as she adjusted the straps over my shoulders. THAT meant she bought a bra especially for me!

I asked, "Do you mean to tell me that you bought this bra for me?!" "Well, I had to; mine would be too big for you. The school only supplies uniforms, not underwear."

"Oh, I see ...now they expect me to wear real girls' underwear when I'm on stage," I said with some undisguised disgust. "Boy, they are a bunch of real 'looney tunes'. I better become the next Dustin Hoffman after I graduate, or else they're in trouble."

"Yes...uh. ...on stage...as well," my mother continued fiddling with the bra, and I almost missed that last remark of hers.

"As well?!? What do you mean 'as well?? As well as where else?" I could almost hear panic in my voice.

"Well,...you know...with your uniform. You will be attending the girls school two days a week, remember?"

"So? What are you saying?"

"Well, your uniform must be correct." Did you ever feel like screaming when trying to get a straight answer from someone who is avoiding the question? That's how I felt now.

"Are you saying that they expect me to wear girls' undies under my pants and shirt?"

"Of course not, dear. Not under your pants and shirt."

"Well, good!" That settles that.

"Under your school uniform's dress and blouse."

"You are kidding...aren't you?" She had to be.

"No, dear. It's part of the program. All 'tresses' follow those rules. It's as normal and accepted as the grubby T-shirts and runners are at your old high school."

I stood in stunned silence as mother pulled the half slip up over my waist and adjusted it so that the decorative lace panel was centered in front. I numbly raised my arms as she gingerly lowered the full-skirted dress down over my upswept curls until it had settled on my shoulders and waist. I could feel the material snugging up against my body as mother carefully closed the long zipper of the dress in back. Finally, she secured several hooks at the top of the zipper and smoothed the dress down around my 'bust' and hips.

"My that fits quite well. You're nearly my size, Ken." As I stood staring at the 'girl', for that's what was looking back at me in the mirror, my mother rummaged around in her jewelry box and vanity top. Coming