a boy, in feminine things, and who'd take part in our secret and not give us away.

So, the next afternoon that was free, Babs came into my room just as Nell was finishing lacing me up into my little peach-satin corsets. She was clearly excited and expressed warm admiration of the corsets and the figure that they gave me, particularly when matching lace-trimmed brassiere, realistically padded, was added. Both the corsets and the brassiere were rather old for a girl of sixteen--my age then--but Babs had told Nell that she wanted to see me in grown-up young lady's things, with a well-developed bust. The rest of my dressing, changing into a fashionable girl, pleased her greatly, as it did me. When I had my frock fastened up, she thrilled me by lifting first the skirt and then the petticoat to see my frilly knickers with their wide legs. While she held up my petticoat, she pulled up her own, exclaiming that her own best French knickers were no smarter than mine.

That was the first of many delightful sessions with the two girls, who so delighted in changing me from a not-very-noticeable boy into a happy, pretty girl, girlish in every outward respect. This was helped by the fact that my masculine characteristics were not developing. I remained slim, with a slight tendency to a fem- inine form, even without the skilled aid of my sister and her friend.

I had half-realized that there was a sexual element in dress- ing in girl's clothes, especially the soft undies and tight cor- sets and the pleasure of swinging petticoats and frocks caressing silk-clad legs. It was, in fact, the thrill of the forbidden, the impropriety of a boy seeing a girl's underclothes and even wearing them. Now, too, there was another girl, not just a sister, who took a real delight in dressing me and lacing me in. That thrill- ing sense of the forbidden gave me acute pleasure in the reflect- ion of my girlish appearance in the mirror--almost a Narcissistic self-love--and I loved to see the approving look in the girl's eyes. They used to encourage my love of posing, seeming not to notice how this excited me.

Babs once bought me a pair of saucy green garters and insist- ed on putting them on me herself. Laughingly Nell handed me up on to the table, making quite a business of lifting my neat skirt and petticoat above my waist, where I had to hold them. Camiknickers

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