36 -MY SON, THE BRIDESMAID

smooth coat of deep red nail polish. It was a color that Trish and his mother had picked out while he was getting his hair set.

All in all, their manicures included a base coat, 2 coats of luscious color, then a final clear top coat. Robin had to admit to himself that his nails never looked more feminine! Mother even purchased another bottle of the polish to take home for their 'pedicures'!

The drying time was up. Robin watched as his hair was taken down from the curlers and combed out. Linda worked at the back of his head for quite some time with comb, brush and many bobby pins. The front was softly teased into a froth of softly-curled bangs and the temple hair into romantically wispy tendrils over both cheeks.

Trish's hair was done in a duplicate of his. The handheld mirror showed Robin the back of his head which was now pinned up in a puffy, smooth French Twist. He had often seen beautiful women wear this classic and elegant style. It was hard to believe that that same ultra-feminine style was now his hairdo for the evening!

Before they left the shop, Linda took a good look at Robin and said, "Wait a minute." She had Robin sit down again and with tweezers in hand asked Mrs. Wilkes, "Do you mind? They need shaped."

Mrs. Wilkes shook her head. Linda began plucking hairs out of Robin's brow until a towel was filled with the long hairs. "Isn't that enough?" Robin pleaded.

"Shhhh! I'm trying to get them straight," Linda declared. "Some women pay twenty dollars for what I'm giving you for free. This will 'open' up your eyes making them more attractive." When she was finished, his mother and Trish 'ohhh'ed and 'ahhh'ed at the transformation. Robin was afraid to look, but did.

"My Gawd!" he gasp. His hands went to his face to see if it were really he in the mirror. His brows were no longer dense and full as creation had planned. High above his large astonished eyes were delicate pencil-thin arches belonging on the face of a bewitching female. Well defined and precisely arched... for a girl. He hoped he could make them look boyish again but hadn't the slightest idea how.

TV FICTION CLASSICS -37

As they left the salon, Robin noticed that their elegant hairdo's and nails did not go well with their everyday clothes. He found himself now anxious to dress in his formal. He was not to wait too long, however, because by the time they got back home it was only a few hours until they had to leave for the hotel.

The same black lingerie that Robin wore when he had tried on the dress last was laid out for him. Soon he was bending over and feeling the constriction of his tight corselet as he attached the garters to the tops of his sheer, dark nylons. Somehow it was different this time.

Trish was helping him dress and vice versa. She had come to his bedroom in panties and bra with her own corselet loosely wrapped around her waist. She showed him how he should close the hooks behind her as she breathed in, in order to allow him to tighten each one.

"Boy, your figure looks great, sis!" Robin had to comment as he surveyed the small waist which was displayed over flaring hips and swelling breasts.

"Just a matter of what you're willing to endure for beauty. It's your turn, 'sis'," Trish replied as she had her brother turn away from her to she positioned his corselet.

Robin suddenly became fearful. These garments weren't made for males. What if she pulled too much or something?

Trish comforted Robin. "Try to relax, dear. It won't hurt as much that way. Are you ready?"

Robin took a couple breaths as he felt Trish pull on the straps and the unfamiliar sensation of being corseted began. His insides felt queasy as the constraining hookup began.

"Breath in, take your hands, and cup your chest pulling upwards," she instructed. Robin followed her instructions while she quickly fastened the many hooks and eyes in back. He could feel the vice-like satin grip of the corset closing around his torso.

It felt strange, his guts being molded into a feminine shape-but not entirely unpleasant. "Oooooh," a high pitched girlish giggle escaped his mouth as Trish fastened the last hook.

"Ok, let your chest down now," Trish instructed. As he did so, the tight bodice of his corset did not allow the extra