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I had to get all of them and head back to the house. When I got home, I had to get back into all three of the items and get used to them before Mike got home - what a surprise he was in for!

I put on the panties and bra and, before putting on the corset, decided to wear my very smooth teddy under it.

This was a good idea, as the corset was much easier to lace, and my body seemed to adjust easier to the pressure and breathing restrictions. Over this went my jeans and a blouse that hid my surprise a little bit, except that I had to pull the belt in a lot more on the waist, so if you looked closely, you could tell about the corset.

I then set myself to tidying up a little and subtly altering the mood in the house so that Mike would have a clue, if he was not thinking about work too much when he got home, that tonight was going to be a little different.

Started at about two in the afternoon and finished by four with maybe two hours to wait for Mike. Time to relax and enjoy, since everything was settling down with the corset; it was still tight, but I was getting used to it now.

One interesting discovery on the latex is that the longer you have it on the more intimate the contact with you it has; this was positively distracting as time went on, and made me feel very horny just sitting there.

Mike arrived right at and when he hit the door I knew it had been one of those days, I had to totally distract him and get his mind off of the day.

At that point I grabbed his tie and pulled him to my lips. The rest of the evening turned a little different than I had originally planned, as he convinced me to go out to dinner with him, as I was!

We went to a quiet little restaurant and had a very nice dinner sitting next to each other and continuing to cuddle. I agreed, since I was getting a little full and could not get the latex panties down to go without taking the corset off first.

Upon arriving home, I explained that I needed to go and would come back out ready for fun, he said it would be nice if he could help lace me back into the corset and I let him.

After a short lesson in lacing from me, he really got busy and laced the corset in well; after I got my breath back he had me in his arms, and the rest of the night went by like a dream, with more loving enjoyment for both sides than we had ever had before.

I even ended up exhausted in his arms asleep in the corset for the night. Next morning, I woke up dreary-eyed from the excitement of the night before, and Mike was nowhere to be found.

Strange that he would not let me know he was going somewhere. I got out of the latex and corset and enjoyed a good long bath, after which I lounged around and contemplated what would be next.

I knew it had to be more latex, but just as my daydreams were getting to the next items, Mike showed up with some electronic gadgets and an almost breathless hurry to him.

I complied, and he started unpacking his gear. He came over with about a dozen little sensor pads that you stick on your head and applied them.

Since it was now noon, I cleaned myself up and, on a lark, put the corset back on, not laced as tight this time, to go back to the fetish shop.

I knew what I was after this time and went right to the latex hose. In the dressing room, I soon had the hose on, but had a problem with them trying to roll back down my legs.

I asked the owner about that, and he remembered that I had purchased the corset the day before. I reached through the door and hooked them onto the corset, adjusted them, and clipped the tops of the stockings into them: problem solved.

I decided to wear the hose out and, as I was paying for them, noticed some boots in the display, knee high and with a good five-inch heel; I asked if he had any in size 9.

He did, so I sat down to try them on. As I pulled up my pants cuff to get the boots on he noticed my legs in the hose and could see that I was a little stiff with the corset on.

I had not noticed that they were eyelet laced all the way up, so he started to lace and, after a while, had both boots on very tight and they actually fit right.

They had a full inch more heel than anything I was used to, so getting up and walking was different at first, but with the support of the good fit and a little practice, I got the hang of it quickly.

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It hadn't occurred to me during the entire summer, but when it was time to pack up and go back home I realized that I had a major problem - tan lines!

Here I had spent the entire summer wearing a 2 piece bathing suit which put some very pale flesh in a very embarrassing place. I was mortified.

Michelle suggested Coppertone; trip to the drugstore. It colored the skin but was not at all natural. It was also streaky. Sunlamp; another trip to the drugstore.

Intensive sessions under the sunlamp and keeping the shirt on for a few weeks got me to a somewhat uniform color. By the time we were 16, Michelle was the most popular girl in school, Homecoming queen, the whole bit.

Occasionally, Michelle and her date would double with me and my date. We were decent musicians but we didn't have anything to distinguish us from the rest of the hurly-burly.

Since we were already a mixture of sexes, styles and tastes our keyboardist Michelle and rythm-player were female, our lead-player was simply strange and the bassist me and the drummer were male I suggested we call ourselves ANDROGENY and keep the crowd guessing as to what it was they were looking at.

We all wore a mixture of clothing - constantly rotating amoung the members - leotards and tights, miniskirts, jeans, leather. Since long hair was in, we all wore at least shoulder length hair.

With a little makeup, we could go from male to female to male at will, at least on stage. The idea was an instant hit!

God, we could have been banned in Boston. Aunt C volunteered to be our business manager and negotiated our gigs.

I preferred to dress feminine and in fact I really tarted it up some nights but I also put together a really Hell's Angels looking costume to keep the folks guessing.

Michelle had some difficulty looking androgenous, much less macho, but she and I worked on her costume after all I owed her and with a little make-up and some really butch clothes she also kept the crowd guessing.

We kept the band going for about a year, playing until Michelle and I were ready to go to college. She planned on studying nursing and I was going to major in computer science.

I figured that computer science was a field which offered me the maximum gender flexibility given my intellectual capabilities. Our freshman year we lived in the dorms.

Unfortunately, separate dorms. Occasionally, we could dress up and go out but since I couldn't be in her dorm and she couldn't be in mine, it was really difficult.

By our sophomore year, we had located an affordable apartment that we could share. We each had separate bedrooms plus a kitchen and a living room.

The rent was more than two dorm rooms but we had much more privacy and less noise. Since I didn't have to worry about one of the guys getting into my stuff, I loaded up all of my clothes from Aunt C's and moved into the apartment full-time.

During my sophomore year, as I became better known among my classmates, I took deliberate pains to cloud my gender. First, I was tall now 5' 11" but slender lbs.

My hair was long and I was virtually beardless but I did not tweeze my eyebrows. My clothes that I wore to class were asexual jeans and sweatshirt.

Second, my voice, though low for a girl was soft. Third, the style that I wore my hair had infinite variations varying from unquestionably feminine to borderline masculine.

Finally, my personality intellectual and emotional could be varied through the spectrum from male to female.

Manipulation of these traits allowed a great deal of freedom for me to explore my own gender identity. I attended most large lectures ie.

For smaller lectures, where the instructor was more likely to compare the face to the roster, I attended as Paul.

Even as Paul, I continued to sow as much gender confusion as possible might as well share the wealth. Michelle began to take some nursing courses that required her to do some time in the local hospital.

Naturally she had to buy some uniforms. I loved them. Always a sucker for a gal in uniform. Seriously, I considered changing majors just to be able to wear a nurse's outfit like Michelle's.

Michelle also found a waitress's job a few miles out of town, serving cocktails. She had to wear a very tight-waisted outfit that was "cut down to there, and cut up to here".

I decided that I could endure an occassional pinch for that kind of dough, so with her introduction I applied for a job. I didn't make anywhere near the money that Michelle did in that job beauty counts for something but it did help out for spending cash.

The outfit was a problem, though. Not so much the "cut up to here," but the "cut down to there" was a toughie. Michelle pitched in by visiting a second gynecologist her gyno already had her on the pill and obtained a second prescription for birth control pills.

After taking them for about a month, my nipples became sore and my breasts began to enlarge. After about six months, I had enough breast development to fill an A-cup bra.

I wasn't going to challenge Dolly but it was going to be hard to look like a boy again. At least topless.

The "cut down to there" problem remained, but at least it wasn't flagrant. Going home to mother was my biggest worry. Oh well, I'd cross that bridge later.

The pinches, as I expected, were there even if the tips weren't quite up to Michelle's. One worry that Michelle didn't have, though, were my testicles and penis.

Some drunken cowboy getting a grip on those and the jig was up. I devised a more advanced version of the gaf that I had worn since I was 6.

Previously, I had merely taken an elastic brief, such as a panty girdle, pulled my penis back between my legs, stuffed my testicles up into my abdomen, and caught the whole mess with the girdle.

Occassionally, the penis would slip to the side, but more often it would simply creep forward, coming to rest as a lump of unwanted flesh at the tip of my pubis bone.

My new gaf improved upon this by providing a pocket into which the penis was inserted, thus preventing it from slipping sideways.

It also allowed for the head of the penis to be secured and pulled backwards with the gaf. The final improvement involved finding a corset-type garment to attach the gaf to.

This was the hardest part. Corsets went out of favor many decades ago and therefore one cannot expect Sears or Penneys to carry them in their catalog.

The Yellow Pages weren't much help either. For the short term, I bought what was termed a "waist nipper". I sewed the gaf to the front of the nipper and put eyelets into the back, so that I could draw the laces, that I had sewn to the gaf, tightly towards the rear.

Utimately, I found a manufacturer of a Victorian style corset and had one made to my measurements. The gaf I had designed for the nipper worked well with the corset and my worries about being "felt-up" all but vanished.

The corset provided one additional benefit. Without the corset, my waist-line was nothing special. With the corset, I was able to bring my waist from it's natural 28" to a corsetted 24".

After a few months, I was able offer a corsetted waist of 22" and an uncorsetted waist of 24 inchs. My gender ambiquity was become more difficult to maintain.

The waitress job forced me to take a definite posture towards my feminine side, most of which was difficult, if not impossible, to reverse the next morning.

Obviously I was going to have to make some difficult decisions soon. I knew that I did not want to go through life appearing as a man, though I felt comfortable "being" a man.

I knew mother would be hurt and probably wouldn't understand. Aunt C probably would understand but I didn't know she could help.

My professors would have to be told since the classes at the junior and senior level were definitely small enough for them to associate names and faces.

I asked for, and was granted, an appointment with the Head of the Psychology Department. I felt that I needed some help making these decisions and thought he might be in position to recommend someone knowledgable about my problem.

On the appropriate day I was greeted by Professor Ferguson himself. He gave me a warm handshake with his big dry paws. Directing me to the chair upholstered in well worn leather, he took up a position behind his desk.

Leaning on his elbows over his enormous desk, he inquired how help be of service. My hopes rose. I told him, as briefly as could, my career at the university.

I then told him of my extracurricular life. He didn't bat a lash. I told him that I felt I had reached a crucial decison point in my life and hoped that he could recommend someone who could help me with these decisions.

He smiled warmly and sat back in his chair. On this campus alone, that means that there are some students facing the same questions that you face.

Most will never resolve their conflicts. There is, however, a colleague of mine who is also knowledgable about this problem.

Let me give you her name and extension. No, better yet let's see if she has time to come here now. Visit the help section or contact us.

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