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made-up nicely with a pink lipstick. But everyone still called me Gene and gawked at me. Finally one secretary came up and confided to me, "Gene, your suit looks every nice and the style brings out your features but 'pink' is the wrong color for a business suit." The secretary takes a black knit dress out of a bag and hands it to me to put

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"I slept more under the affects of the hormones.

on. I put slip it on in front of her and she says, "That's better!" I wake up.

AT Dr. Welsh's suggestion, Mary went out and bought me a wardrobe of my own corsets and girdles. Mary looked for styles that were dainty and delicate but had double stretch satin panels to firm my front and crotch.

She bought several made by a little known company called, 'UNDER CONTROL'. Each of the shapers had a unique criss-cross crotch 'powernet' that simply allowed 'no give' in that area.

When I first struggled into one, I didn't think I could wear it for very long. After some experimentation, I figured out how I could push my maleness up and back, allowing the girdle to reliably flatten them into the 'ideal' feminine profile. I removed the tag, one of which said, "Under Control, model 237, 'JUST LIKE HERS'.

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Girdles are such feminine garments. I was astonishment to see my image in the latex former; the shining satin panel passing smoothly between my soft tapering thighs, creating a valley. We compared 'Mary's' to 'mine' and discovered 'no difference'--even to the touch.

My eyes went over the entire effect in detail. Seeing my figure in the feminine former with accented hips emphasized by the tight waistband that gave me such neat and lovely curves. I possessed no bustline to speak yet but I sensed the glamour of effective figure training. I found this feminizing of my body keenly thrilling even though I was experiencing some aches and pains. I knew I would just have to get used to this unusual confinement.

I was speechless as Mary explored the unaccustomed void with her fingers. My face was cranberry red as I was also subjected to Mary's fussing until she was convinced 'it' was 'flawless'. It was her belief that if I was going to live dress as a woman, I should be lady-like in every way possible.

At Mary's insistence, from that day, I wore the girdles--hardly ever taking them off. The front satin panels flattened my tummy giving me a trim, splendid figure and a new sassy prance to my

walk.

I had relied on being able to remove my confining girdles at night but Mary was absolutely furious with me. "Figure training isn't just a daytime endeavor," she insisted. She knew how cramped and restricted the girdles were----she had quit wearing them years ago; but then she had a wonderful figure.

After the first few days, I quit complaining. At the end of a month, I had become remarkably