RANSVESTIA

masculinity would come uppermost and the seance would end with a connection but may flankly confess that unless the latter were performed in some extraordinary manner or position. I did not enjoy is so much as when we kept up the illusion of my being female, as we sometimes even did to the extent of her dressing as a man and going through a scene of the seduction of myself as a woman. I may add that it was curious to note that just in the same way that I like to be tight-laced in order to feel thoroughly transformed into a woman and so enjoy my most delicious sensations, she liked to be the same during an ordinary connection, saying that it increased her pleasure to an extraordinary degree.

"This particular amour is some good time ago, but I have since had others more or less like it, some with younger women and girls who were glad to find a male admirer who could indulge in unlimitede lascivious caressing without wanting to go always to the full length of actual connection, sometimes my masculine and sometimes my feminine desires have been uppermost, but the latter have always the increase, and I have now I think almost reached the stage described as actual sexual inversion. When dressed as a woman, I am a woman, with all a woman's feelings and longings. The clothing still gives me all the exquisite pleasure it ever did, and, indeed I sometimes think that to be dressed in lovely feminine things, down to the last possible detail, with all of them designed and arranged for voluptuous effect, and when in them to be able to expose oneself to the lascivious gaze, or receive the lacivious caresses, of a pretty woman similarly attired, or to pose for oneself in some extraordinary position in front of a mirror, or to lie half naked half femininely in a voluptuous dream, is the absolute height of sexual pleasure, yet at times when excited to the last pitch of female desire I sometimes find myself longing for a male instead of a female lover. Dressed as a girl I seem actually to become one. With my feet in high heeled shoes, and my legs looking exactly like those of a girl in black silk openwork stockings; feeling the clasp of my elaborate garters and the tickling of the frills of my drawers; clad in a delicate delicious chemise, laced to the utmost in shapely corsets; with a foam of lace petticoats round my ankles; with my neck and arms bare, and my bosom and shoulders rising nude out of the cliffons of a low-cut evening bodice, I look like a woman, and I feel like one, and then I seem to want a man to expose the charms of my person and clothing, to kiss and caress me, while I give myself up to him in I know not what mad orgie of lascivious and voluptous pleasure. I have not yet gone to the length of

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