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Her head bowed as her eyes looked downward she slowly rose from her knees and stood before me as she slowly began to disrobe. Her hands shook as she...moved buttons though holes, tugging the sleeves free she let the dress fall to the floor of the teepee. Like peeling an onion, layer after layer of petticoats followed the dress to the ground. At last she stood clad only in the corset and long stocking. My breath was almost at a stand still as I watched her tug at the laces binding her into it. . Since well before puberty, I knew in my heart I should have been born female. It wasn't that I lusted after boys, or had urges to wear feminine clothing and makeup. In fact, the latter seemed rather silly to me. Girls looked better to me without all the artificial stuff they seemed to love so much. No, I just seemed to empathize more with women instead of men. When the boys would want to do something at school, I would have preferred to do what the girls wanted to do. I knew there were some. More

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