RANSVESTIA

crowned off with a small butterfly which she pinned to the side of my head just above one ear. "Now, stand up and try and walk around a bit," Dianne said as she stood there surveying the new me.

I stood, wobbling a bit from the unaccustomed high heels and walked around the room. I stopped in front of the full length mirror. I could hardly believe my eyes.

Reflected in the mirror was a moderately attractive young woman. Her feet, set daintily, in white patent leather shoes which enhanced the femininity of her foot and ankle passed the eye on to the gossamer sheen of nylon which caressed her legs which curved delightfully up and dis- appeared into the skirt of a pale blue minidress which seemed both to expose and disguise the curves of her body but for the breasts which seemed to strain against the material of the dress in a delightful way. The shimmery softness of her brown shoulder-length hair set her face in a smoky frame which barely concealed the little sparkling points of pen- dant earrings flashing as she moved her head.

"Darling, you're a beautiful girl, it's too bad we can't dress you this way all the time," said Dianne from behind me as I stood there admiring the new me in the mirror.

I snapped back to myself and the here and now and spun around to face her and stared at her.

"Oh come on, darling, I know that you're enjoying yourself and all this as much as I am. You enjoy dressing like a girl as much as I do dressing you like one, you just won't admit it is all," Dianne said as she surveyed my transformation and the expression on my face.

I stood there a while, feeling the clothes and the hair, smelling the essence of the new me.

"You're wrong," I said. "I will admit it."

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