TRANSVESTIA

It took a month or two before I got used to boy clothes and by then it was time to start school. I had been taught a little at home, so I was able to start out in the third grade. I must have been a sissy due to my early training, for the boys gave me a fit. They would push me into the girl's toilet and wouldn't let me out. I was made to put on my old dresses to play in after I came home from school, “to wear out.” Some of the boys riding their horses came up to the house and almost caught me in one of them. That ended me wearing dresses for a long time. They were torn up by my grandmother for quilts.

Mother married soon afterwards and we left the farm and moved to the city. I still had the longing for dresses. Mother found it out and let me wear some of hers when my stepfather was not around. I would pull my hair back and pin on my old curls.

Finally I outgrew her clothes and started to high school. I became in- terested in baseball and then football. By this time I has about 5' 4" tall and 160 lbs. . . . and had no desire to put on dresses. As a matter of fact I was ashamed of myself for my past interests.

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After I was presented with my diploma by my high school principal my mother ran up and hugged me. She said she would have been more happy if I could have worn a white dress with my hair done up like the girls in my class. She told me not to go to the party with the other stu- dents unless I had to, but to come straight home she had something for me. When I got home I found a beautiful long white dress mother had made for me. It was laid out on the bed along with a padded satin brassier, silk panties and slip, a pair of sheer hose and a pair of satin covered pumps just my size. Mother came in the room and said she would have given anything to see me graduate in them and asked if I would put them on and hold my diploma, just so she could see what I would have looked like as a girl. I knew better, but I thought, "What the hell, it will please her and my stepfather is out of town. Why not.” I took off my clothes and showered. When I put on my pretty panties, bang, the old thrill came back. After I had put on my underthings, my mother came in and helped me with the dress, made up my face and put on some earrings and beads. She went to her room and brought back a shoulder-length wig, the same color as my hair, and adjusted it on my head. She pinned up the hair here and there so it would look like I had my hair done up, then draped some of my old curls she had been saving down from behind my car to my breast, gave me some long gloves to put on and then made me go in her room and look at myself. When I looked in the mirror I was so pretty I was shocked. My longing for dresses had returned.

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