Transvestia

"No, no," I cried. "Tell me. I promise that I'll give it a good try."

She must have a good idea, and these contracts meant the begin- ning of my career. I couldn't let her back off now as hope flooded through me. "I promise to do anything you suggest."

"Then, you'll put yourself completely in my hands," she insisted.

"Yes, I will." I felt so much better; I wouldn't be lost anymore, and things would get better. "I'll do anything that you want."

"All right," she nodded briefly. "You remember that. Now, let's go to your place."

"But... what...?"

"Not another word," she said as she turned on her heel. She strode ahead of me, and I trotted along behind her, like an eager little child who is about to have his dreams answered.

We weren't far from home, and in a minute, Lois led the way into our apartment. She didn't hesitate or knock and walked right into the living room. Janet lay on the couch with her face seemingly white against the darkness of her hair. Her broken leg, held rigid by a cast, lay propped up on pillows; behind her, leaning against the wall stood her crutches; she had already learned to hobble around on them. She looked at Lois with up-raised eyebrows, and it may have been my imagination, but I think that Lois nodded, curtly.

Lois wheeled around, and her appraising look as her eyes ran up and down my body stopped me in mid-step. "Now," she commanded. "We'll start. I want you to take all your clothes off and put on a pair of tights."

Here? In my own apartment? In front of my sister? Well, I had promised, and I went in my room. In a minute, I came back, self- conscious and embarrassed about my pear-shaped body, wishing that my rounded hips were slim and trim. This was an unsettling begin- ning.

Lois still stood in the middle of the room, but Janet had swung her-

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