RANSVESTIA

After reading over those reports about transvestism that the doctors had written some ten years before for my father, I felt that I must com- plete the task that I had set out for myself in those formative years. I left all my friends and moved to this penthouse apartment which I rented for my "girl friend," who was to return from Europe in three months. I had decided that that was enough time to prepare myself for a feminine life.

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And now the moment of truth was at hand. I was afraid, but felt that today would be the beginning of a new life for me. I must prepare my- self perfectly for the new job and life. I dusted my whole body with sweet smelling talcum. I combed out my three months growth of hair it still was not long enough for a girls hairdo, that would take another month or two, but I carefully pinned it back so that once I was ready to go out I could slip on my wig.

Back in the bedroom I slipped on the rubber panties that concealed my male sex organs and added just a slight touch of padding where it was needed. I carefully attached a pair of artificial breasts to my chest and lay down on the bed for 15 minutes for them to set firmly.

As I lay there, I mentally thanked my parents for having left enough money so that I would literally never have to work another day in my life. Dad had been very wealthy and on top of that he had had a good job up until that accident which had snuffed out both their lives.

The timer sounded and I rose and looked at myself in the mirror. Except for a very small line I had female breasts, I hooked the bra be- hind my back and pulled on the pantie hose. My legs are slim so the hose were seamless. I put on my mini-slip and pulled the pale green turtle- neck sweater over my head. I carefully turned down the collar and spent almost twenty minutes in front of the dressing table putting on my face. After the final dusting and a final blot of the lips I zipped up the sweater and donned my bright green mini skirt. The pale yellow shoes with low heels felt wonderful on my tiny feet- - size 4. The suit coat was tight at the waist as I buttoned it up.

In just a few minutes I would take the elevator downstairs and step into the world in the role I had always wanted to live. My “boy friend" (who was really my boy self) had arranged with a college chum for me to start this morning as a clerk in his father's law firm. I was able to handle it, since in addition to all the preparations for my conversion I had studied shorthand and typing for the last three months.

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