Transvestia

Grace was gone for a long while, and

-

at

in the part. I wondered what she was doing. Left alone, I be- came acutely conscious of my constricting corsets, which I had forgotten up to now. The pressure was terrible. How much longer could I stand it? But I forgot all that at the vision I saw entering the room, from Grace's boudoir. For it was a man least in appearance. But I knew it must be Grace. She had put on my clothes, and had covered her hair with a close-fitting man's wig. She had removed her make-up and taken off her corsets, and she really made quite a respectable looking man. I stood up to greet her, both of us laughing heartily. In my high heels, I was now taller than she, in my shoes. She was about my size, and my clothes fitted her very well, though there was a slight bulge at the chest, where her breasts protruded in spite of her binding brassiere.

I must admit that I was surprised at her trans- formation, but all along I had suspected, from her interest in female impersonation, and her actions, that she was a woman who was somewhat "different". And now I was sure of it.

"If you can be a woman, I can be said, with a laugh. "How do I look? with the sexes transposed?"

a man,

" she

Isn't it fun,

She strutted like a man, and gave her voice a deep masculine tone. I pitched my voice as high as I could, in a ladylike tone, playing the game, though I didn't know what it was to be.

"You are a very handsome man," I lisped, with

a smile I tried to make coy.

"And you are one of the prettiest girls I have ever seen, " said Grace and she really sounded like a man, as well as looking like one.

Naturally I felt immensely flattered, and a

30