The hands shake . The eyes brim with tears. what are all these emotions?Oh shit , i just got
screwed by some strange guy , disgusted with myself I vomit. The door opens again . I
think to myself not again, fight , kick , scratch . Its a women , and a rather fat, red haired
woman in her early 30s. Upturned nose , double chin and a large belly , bust and butt. She
laughs , saying that I am much to young to be here, She beckons me to follow. A large
mirrored room with rows upon rows of dresses and costumes. Boxes piled neatly and not
so neatly with thousands of pairs of shoes. She tells me to stand by a small dressing
room. She hands me several boxes and tells me to attire myself properly as I am going on
a little trip. I open the boxes . Inside ,clothes that my grandmother might have worn . A
fuzzy pink sweater, a calf length skirt with poodles on it .Petticoats,and bras that look like
a dominatrix might wear. The shoes are black and white , with pink soles and white laces,
oxfords , saddle shoes and bobby sox. I walk out of the small dressing room and she
hands me a small vial. She tells me to drink , and I know in my heart I wont be turning
male in this outfit . I drink , it tingles , and i see my reflection in the mirrors. I am
probably 18, blonde, and this bra makes my boobs look like bullets in this tight sweater.
My voice comes out very breathy , and sweet . My brain reels with girly images and
thoughts . I know i was male but as i twirl in my petticoats and poodle skirt, and stand
tippy toe in my saddle shoes I dont feel like a boy . The thing is I dont care, and the
chubby red head applauds and motions me towards another door.