RANSVESTIA

Arnold's eyes twinkled. "But I was told I couldn't do this script without Fennell, or even at all. I intend to shock 'em all when I bring this one in. I'll even shoot the last scenes as well as your revealing scenes, Curt, myself. That way, no one on the set will know." His voice was serious. "It'll save everyone a lot of embarassment, the crew in particular, in the long run."

Had Curtis Fennell actually known how he would feel dressed in women's clothing without the body stocking, he would probably never have given in so easily to Rudi Gref's suggestion. The soft, silky touch of the slip on his thighs was excruciatingly feminine, or at least, as feminine an experience as Curtis Fennell had ever experienced or believed possible. The panty hose hugged his shaved legs gently, producing cool, light sensations along his legs as the slip and skirt brushed against him. The soft bra with liquid inserts gave his torso a rounded female appearance without any of the itching that had plagued him before. At Gref's nagging insistance, Fennell had allowed him to curl and set the front of his hair so that the short wiglet fitted to the back of his head, left him again feeling cool though a little uncomfortable. He was able to now look at the woman opposite him in the mirror without feelings of embarassment. Guilty sensations gnawed at him for taking part in such a charade, however, and a tiny voice jeered at him for the sense of enjoyment he was getting out of the whole proceeding. Don't start to enjoy it, he told himself in panic; while another voice sneered at his timidity. If it's fun, do it, said this part of him. Enjoy life to its fullest, it said, no matter how bizarre the situation. The dark haired woman, her hair pulled back behind her ears and into a mass of curls which hung down her neck, smiled back at him from Rudi's mirror. The taste and feeling of lipstick on his lips and the heavy, sticky eyelashes enriched the strangeness of the present situation. While Rudi was out, he stood in front of the mirror, admiring the teased curls across the forehead and the long, thin earrings pressing so tightly on his earlobes. He glanced around guiltily. There was no one there, of course, and so he tried a few poses and a few smiles into the mirror. Hmmmm, if he really were a woman, Curtis Fennell would have been happy to spent the night with such an attractive 'girl'-not a really beautiful woman --but female definitely, well-groomed and attractive.

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