RANSVESTIA

the beauty shop that afternoon, where I had been given the works. My hair was long enough to style really beautifully. A red bow kept the bangs behind my ear, to show Mrs. Rosalia's earrings.

Mother seemed more excited than I was at the prospect of me going to a formal dance. I guess she was reliving her childhood through me, or something. I was nervous as a cat in a doghouse. What really hurt was the fact that I really FELT pretty and yes... feminine. More than I had ever thought possible. How was all this possible? How did I ever get into this predicament. And why did I like the smallness of my waist, the delicious rustling of my petticoat and my tightly drawn stockings? How was it that I had changed so much?

Mother had set the stage for Peter. I was to wait in my room till mother called me. Peter arrived exactly on time. After mother de- liberately had let him become impatient and anxious, I made my grand entrance. The look on Peter's face made my evening. When dressed in his rented tux, he handed me a beautiful, fragrant corsage. I felt all my nervousness disappear as I made a mock curtsey and smilingly thanked him. Calm and collected, I realized the situation all too well. Here we were; a boy and a girl on a date, just as it should be. I would submit to the demands of the evening. I was expected to be a pretty girl... and I would be one. For tonight, anyway.

I will always remember this evening. I seemed to have danced all night. My cheeks were red with the excitement of it all, my eyes shiny with pleasure. It seems that all the boys were just waiting for a chance to cut in and I had to submit my slender waist to many, many eager hands, as I was wheeled around. I managed to follow quite well. When Peter got hold of me again, he pressed me tightly to him in a most possessive manner. And instead of protesting, I found myself giving in to his masterful gestures.

Later, Peter walked me home, together with some of my best girl- friends and their escorts. Peter had put his arm around my shoulders and had drawn me close. I felt my body and mind responding ... as if I had no mind of my own. I actually snuggled up to him which later caused me terrible shame whenever I thought about it.

Near home, in a dark portion of the street, Peter stopped me. He hugged me tight and started to kiss me. My brain wanted to struggle, but my throat refused to cry STOP. I just could not help myself sub-