diminished and John said that I must now start getting into the clothes.

John handed me a pair of pink, lace panties. I took them and for a moment just stood there, holding them in my hand. John said, "here, this is the front

and you'll need this garter belt too. To hold up the nylon hose."

John stared at me and smiled somewhat quizzically as I made no reply, but instead, slip- ped my shorts off and started to bring the soft panties up on my legs. My legs were satin smooth now, and the feeling as the soft fabric moved upward on them sent another wave of excitement charging through my body. Quickly I had the panties adjust- ed and the elastic band hugging my waist.

There was no ignoring the excitement and I searched John's face for some sign of recognition; some hint hint that he, too had sensed this eroticism when he dressed for the first time. Per- haps he still experienced it. I couldn't ask him, and there was no time for it.

"Now this brassiere is al- ready partially padded," John explained, "slip into it and we'll see what happens.

""

As John handed the bras- siere to me the fleeting thought passed through my mind; the thought of how often I had no- ticed Beth's brassieres drying in the bathroom; or on the clothes line; how often I had wondered how she ever got into such a con- traption but knowing, too that I had often watched her and even helped her.

"You have to take off your under-shirt, Richard," John said, as I stood there, still momentar- ily puzzeled.

"oh, yes, of course," I ans- wered. And I quickly went about removing the last item of male attire and allowing John to help me into the brassiere. The straps were tight around my chest. I let my hand move across the padded fullness of the white material and tried to stop thinking of the phy- sical reaction to such a complete- ly new and strange sensation.

"I believe the bra is full enough, don't you?" John asked. "I - I think so," I answered

"the strap is just a little snug.'

17

"All right," he answered, moving around to the back, "I can let it out some." He then ad- justed the strap and at once the immediate strain of the constric- ting garment was eased. I stepped away a few feet and turned a- round.

"That's better," I told John "How do you feel, is every- thing all right?" he asked.

"Yes, well yes," I answered. John turned to the suitcase again without replying. He was now re- moving a pair of filmy nylon stockings and another garment I recognized as a garter belt - sa- tin, with lace embroidered over it.

John was so expert in all this. It made me wonder mo- mentarily at how long he had been dressing this way. He'd said he and Mary had attended a couple of Reverend Vincent's services; but I wondered; he was so very expert.

"Here, slip into this garter belt," John directed, "and these are your stockings. I have to really start with my things or we'll never get inside.”

The garter belt was easier to manipulate than the brassiere had been. It went quickly into place with the metal fasteners tickling as they teased against my legs. I then sat down and took the nylon stockings from the edge of the suitcase where John had put them. I knew there was a correct way of getting them on and for a moment I studied it out.

"}

"Roll it all the way down, John said, noticing my hesitance, "then put your foot in and ease it up onto your leg."

I did as he directed, rolling the filmy stocking down until the foot part of it was adjusted and I could line up the heel of the stocking. Then I began draw- ing the stocking upwards on my leg geing careful not to snag it with my rather rough fingers.

As I smoothed it out I could just feel the stubble from the hairs on my legs as it pro- truded through the stockings. But it was so slight that the utter sheerness and satin smoothness of the effect the stockings had on the leg was hardly affected.

37

And as I fastened the first stock- ing into the garter belt adjust- ments the excitement of the way the stocking looked and felt was once more so strong and unde- niable as to make me go imme- diately to the other stocking and begin working my foot into it.

I soon had the second stocking fastened and almost without thinking I was twisting to examine if the seams were straight. When I realized how in- stictively I had reacted the thought made me smile.

John paused in his own hur- ried efforts to dress and said, "You can straighten them by putting your hands around your legs and twisting the stocking."

I stood up and twisted down, grabbing around one por- tion of my leg and turning the sheer stocking until I could see that the seam was straight. I then repeated the process until at last I was satisfied with the seams. Once more I let my hands move slowly up the satin smooth legs; then I straightened and for the first time since putting on make-up I glanced in the mirror.

The reflection was that of a woman the beautiful face, the long hair, the voluptuous breasts, the narrow effect of the waist as the panties and garter-belt nip- ped it in; and the nylons in just the part of the reflection where the mirror's extension ended. I stood there utterly paralyzed.

"How does Regina sound to you?" John said suddenly. "Regina?"

"Yes," he answered, pulling on his somewhat longer brassiere with all the dexterity of Beth, or any woman at this stage of put- ting her clothes on, "you'll need a femme name, as they call it." "Do you have one?" I ask-

ed.

"Yes, Joan - I introduced myself as Joan," he answered. The idea would have struck me as grotesquely theatrical ear- lier in the day. But now, stand- ing before the mirror with all the appearance of a female I remem- bered Reverend Vincent intro- ducing the various members of his office staff this morning.

"I I thought we would just go in and sit down," I said, "do you mean there's social ac-