Transvestia

him." The door closed gently behind her.

"How did I get into this?" I mumbled to myself as I removed my clothes and turned on the shower. Having no answer, I set about the task and was al- most finished when I heard a knock on the bathroom door. It was Millie. "Almost finished in there?"

"In just a second," I called.

The door opened a crack and she said, "Stay in the shower while I leave this for you. There will be a garment out here that I want you to put on first. In case it isn't too obvious to you, the pads go in the back." A little giggle and she was

gone.

After I had dried myself, I inspected the padded panty girdle she had left and struggled into it. A bit tight at first, in seconds, it felt quite plea- sant. I called: "Can I come out now?"

"My! That does wonders for your figure!" Millie exclaimed as I stepped self-consciously into the room. "You should wear one of those all the time! Now then try this." She extended a matching white satin padded bra. As I struggled awkwardly to close the straps in the back, she came to my assistance, commenting that before the show was over, I would be doing this myself as if I had been at it all my life. I shuddered at the thought of the coming weeks.

The bra was followed by a white satin slip. And I must admit that I got a thrill as it cascaded down around my new figure. Next came the nylons and a brief lesson on how to put them on myself without snags or other masculine-type damage. As she pulled them taut and attached them to the supporters on the panty girdle, another thrill ran through me that took my mind completely off my miserable feeling at having been trapped by Harry Westbrook.

"You're a bit too tall for high heels," she

18