Helen O'Connor

FICTION

I'LL LEAD, YOU FOLLOW!

Soon it will be time to dress in my bridal gown. My veil hangs high on the wall; it is long enough to flow down into a train. I run my hands down my white satin slip, cupping my breasts, caressing my small waist which is pulled in even more by a Merry Widow corset, and then rounding out over my hips.

My bridal gown, full-skirted in chiffon, with a high neckline and sheer, full sleeves that gather at the wrist in ruffles, is gorgeous, a dream that every girl longs for and hopes for. My dark hair has been carefully combed, curls falling to my shoulder, and I have a scarf over it for protection when the soft folds of my skirt slip over my head and down over my body. Everything about me is exquisitely groomed - elegantly polished finger nails that help shape my rather chunky hands into smoothly tapering fingers. I will make a lovely feminine picture as I walk out into the auditorium.

What a time I have had since the days I practiced my dance act with my sister, Janet. I was her partner and leader, and we made an attractive couple. You see, I'm really a man, and I'll tell you my story, how I came to be dressed in lovely lingerie, after spending most of my life wearing cotton jockey or boxer shorts.

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My name was Carl, and I am a dancer. I love to dance. As a boy, I went to dancing school ballroom, tap, ballet; I studied them all. When I finished my education, I had made my plans; I would work for a year, save some money, and then I would start a career in ballroom dancing, at concerts, night clubs, plays. Once I had a reputation, I would switch over into the choreographer bit, and then into directing.

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