Wednesday, October 23, 2019

The Waiting House, 3

Carefully rolling and pulling the seamed stocking past my freshly painted toenails, up my legs, feeling them become smooth and shapely as I fastened the hose to the garters, I paused to admire myself. The effect had made me beautiful...

I could stop now, put on my male clothes and step out of the house, beginning a life as my female self in the present.

Or I could dress fully in the clothing that awaited me, dress for the 1950s from head to toe.

I quickly selected an evening dress...

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