Transvestia

it! And if it is not fit, I shall pump you into that can of pie filling over there on the shelf."

Steve's immediate reaction of resentment was promptly stifled by the uselessness of further fighting and the painful realization that he was guilty as charged. Diplomatically, he changed the subject: "Food? Oh, that. Yes, please. Later, check first." And he found himself carried into the bathroom. She growled in their throat at the sight of what their struggle had done to 14 inches of silky hair, then swept the mess out of sight under a bath cap and proceded to take a shower. He tactfully refrained from comment, but was utterly apalled at the rigorous physical examination that followed. He had considered himself an expert on female anatomy, more because of his experiments on simulating it that the feverish explorations he had made on a few willing bed-partners, but his education was most embarrassingly made complete that morning, as he learned dozens of details normally spared the male. Worst, though, was the cold-blooded manner in which this creature was examining her near per- fection no trace of feminine vanity, but rather the satisfaction of a master-mechanic checking over his tool kit and finding it all in good working order. Ap- parently his ideas of "enjoying being a girl" had been pretty naive. Done at last, she swept on a bath-robe and strode into the kitchen.

-

Here, suddenly, he detected a weakness in this steely character. She hated to cook, regarded the stove as a personal demon, and with good reason if the flash of memories she inadvertently showed him was typical. Five minutes later, nursing a couple of fresh burns added to the hundreds in her memory and surveying the muddle she had achieved, he gently offered to help. With his good left hand, trained in

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