RANSVESTIA

Janet ran a comb through my hair several times. "We'll work out a very becoming hair style for you," she said.

The work began then. Janet didn't cut or shape my hair then, but she did comb it this way and that, testing the texture and wave be- fore she tied it back from my face with the ribbon again; then she began to pluck my eyebrows. "Once your eyebrows are shaped in a feminine way," she said, "you'll have to go through with it. You won't be able to leave the apartment unless you are dressed in female clothes." I didn't want to nod or do anything while she worked so close to my eyes, but that was pretty much how I figured it. I would have to wear skirts and brassieres all of the time in order to become accustomed to them. And high heels, and a waist cincher.

"You know," Janet mused as she worked on my face. "This is what I like to do."

I blushed. I had been so intent on my own career as a dancer that I hadn't listened to her when she mentioned going to cosmetology school. But she had been studying and now could teach me how to put on makeup, how to take care of my hands and fingernails, and other aspects of womanly grooming. And now she could begin her own plans for a career, her education, and later, maybe her own beauty shop.

Lois still considered me very carefully, her fingers stroking her chin as if she already had a beard there, her eyes thoughtful. "No more masculine clothes," she said. "And we will have to get back to the rehersal hall; you will have to go over the routines and make sure that you know your part and your role."

Janet cut in with eager comments. "You can make over some of my dresses and slips, and I can help you sew and make others."

"You'll have to wear foundation garments. Your waist needs pulling in; it's too large, but you have nice legs and smallish feet, for a man."

"It's going to be such fun," Janet bubbled on. She had been as concerned about the ruining of my dreams as I had been. "We'll be sisters, and can go shopping, and everything."

"You know," Lois continued to muse. "Your beard is not too heavy,