about her brother and how he used to dress up and that she would help him. She appeared pretty open-minded about it and so I confessed my own crossdressing desires and it wasn't long until she got me a dress and some lingerie as well as shoes and took me to her apt. She asked me to take a shower and when I got out and dried myself, she had all those pretty things all laid out on the bed for me. She told me to hurry up and get dressed and when I finished she came into the room and shaved my legs and made my face up with cosmetics and even curled my hair. We did this several times and I feel that I didn't look too badly. In fact, my girlfriend gave me a number of compli- ments. She said that I looked better in a dress than did she. She indicated that she did all this for me because it made my happy. But, unfortunately, down inside her it started to bother her. I really loved her so I quit asking her to dress me up.
We have since married and I've joined the army so I have had to keep my feelings buried deep down inside. But, recently, she has been asking again if I want to dress up again. I love her very much and I do not want to see her that upset again. I now realize that there is a part of me that needs attention. I very much enjoy dresses, high heels and being pretty and femi- nine. But I want to share this with my wife and I want her to be a part of it. I know that she could break loose and accept my occasional crossdressing but some 'dumb-assed' psychologist is preventing her from accepting my feminine inclinnations. I am still in the army but I need to meet other people like me who enjoy being pretty once in awhile. When I go out and see girls in dresses I wish that I could be one of them. I don't feel that this is wrong and I like being a woman very much - on occasion. If there are any chapters of the Society near me at Ft Bragg, N.C., I would like to jojn with them. R.J.B. (S.C.)
Dear Carol: I had written to you just a few days ago and because of the people around me when I was typing the letter, I had to keep it from looking as though I was a little strange. I guess that I could be called a closet Tv, but in other ways, am not. When I was between the ages of 5 and 7, if I misbehaved as a boy, my father would see that I was dressed as a girl. This meant wearing a dress, panties, slip and shoes with anklets. I usually cried when it happened but when I had settled down and behaved myself for a period of time, I would be taken out of the clothes and told not to misbehave again. As I grew older,
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