In Petticoa S .- •A STORY of TRANSVESTISM Lllllllllllllll
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•TU N BOUT PR ESE TS 11111111111111111•111111111 - One Summer .- . -. - . in Petticoa s .- •A STORY OF TRANSVESTISM lllllllllllllll: .- .- I 1-- ~ gc ,., .· .... - lllllllllllllllllHllllllllUllHllllllllHllllllHIHll(lllllllltf By Siobhan Frederick_s __ llllTA LibraIJ Llllrartan: Melissaacd@aolcom 'E"~ ONE SUMMER IN PETTICOATS• Siobhan Fredericks Before 1 begin my story, let me get one thing straight, so there'll be no confusion: I am a man -- maybe not one hundred percent male (and who can honestly say he is), but I live a man's life in a man's world, and I do not regret it for a single minute. I don't wa.nt to change my sex or live as a woman or do anything more than give in now and again to old established urges to ''dress" and drink of the heady wine of femininity. After all, if most of us TVs weren't real ly men, this whole business of dressing up in gal's clothes would be a bloody awful bore, A TURNABOUT NOVELET wouldn't it? The kick we get out of cross dressing comes because we are men -- not be cause we're answering some mystic call of some sort of "girl within." It provides us with some healthy relaxation and a change of pace from the brutal ratrace of a world gone Published by the Abbe de Choisy Press entirely mad. P. o. Box 4053, Grand Central Station New York, New York* 10017 So when I tell you my little story, when I reveal to you this tender little slice out of my life , try to keep in mind what I've just aaaaaaaaooaoaaaooaaaooaooo said. Copvright c 1966 * by the ~~ b~ de Choisy Press My mother -- bless her dear, demented soul wanted me to be a girl. Long before I was ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED born, she was determined that I was going to be a girl, no matter how capriciously the genes and chromos ranged themselves. Print So when I was born a normal, healthy boy, it didn't make too much difference to her. At that stage of the game, it didn't make much difference to me, either, and I enjoyed being dressed in frilly girl's attire, which went on until 1 was five. After that time, [ 1 ] l was allowed to dress up as a little girl any time l wanted to. My father di d when being away from home and accustom themselves l was three and left us quite well off, and to school routine. There were no academic l suppose Mom's overindulgence of me was a type classes given during the summer session, resu t of her loneliness and frustration. only lessons in deportment and social grace But l st you think the idea of my dressing and the like. up was Mom's alone, l t me point out that l was never forced to do it and that I real So when the notice came from the school, ly enjoyed the whole bit of going out to Mom asked me if I'd consider trying out her play in dresses and being accep ed as a plan -- a sort of experiment which could be little girl when I did so, which was several terminated at the end of the initial session times a week, if I remember correctly. if I found it not to my taste. It was up to me entire~. The other kids in my neighborhood seemed to be entirely in the dark as to my double Well, I must say that I didn't waste much l fe. They didn't know that the roughn ck time thinking it over before I decided to little boy who sometim s joined their games go along with her' idea. Several factors led was al o the demure little gi l who played to my quick decision. with them at other times. I learned quite early to be a skillful actor or actress, as For one thing, I was still very much ad the occasion demanded. dicted to feminine frills even though my cross-dressing activities were infrequent. As I grew older, of course, things were I was built somewhat on the small and slender a litt e more complicat d, and my dressing side for my age. And the challenge of my ability to act out the social role of a up subsided for a time 0 However, the kick was st 11 there, and I'd have an occasional girl was too great to pass up. fling. What really swung my decision, however, So far gone was Mom on the idea that I was something strange that had b gun to was to be a girl that, long before I was happen to me during the early days of pu born, she had even enrolled me in an ex ~erty. My breasts had begun to growl clusive girl's boarding school, where I was scheduled to begin during my fourteenth The condition was not severe or particu sununer. Somehow, she never got around to larly alarming, but I was well aware of it can elling the pre-enrollment, and when the and hated like the devil to have any of the notification came from the school, her old other kids see me without a shirt on. The longings returned. I condition itself was not too unu ual in - boys of my age. imes during pub rty The school had a cy of starting the the hormones get a little mixed up and a first-year students off in a three-month temporary gynecomastia is created, which orientation s ssion which took place during . usually disappears a few years later. the summer months before they actually en I tered the ninth grade. In this way, the While my strangely budding breasts were newcomers could sort of get used to idea of a source of some distress to me, I found [ 2 ] [ 3 ] to my bedroom, where Mom was waiting for me. also that they were a huge asset when it On the bed were piled packages and boxes came to dressing up as a girl. At the time bearing the names of some of the most f ash l had no idea that they were temporary, and ionable girls' shoppes in town, and l opened it gave me the notion that perhaps l was them eagerly to find they contained dresses, destined to be a girl. My mother was aware sweaters, skirts, lingerie of all descrip of them, of course, and I suppose she took tions, brassieres, tiny panty-girdles, nylon them as a kind of omen. I'm sure that it stockings, and a variety of shoes -- some played a large part in her decision to go with medium heels and some with low heels on with the experiment. i, for sport wear. Mother was so pleased when I decided to We quickly emptied a couple of drawers in go along with her idea, she marched right my chiffonier to make room for my windfall, out and bought me the kind of feminine and Mom put some delicately scented sachets wardrobe that would make any girl -- or in them to lend their fragrance to the new any young TV -- st~-eyed with delight. clothes. I laid each item gently in its And she didn't wait until the S1JIDiller ses proper place, gloating over it like King sion was about to begin. She had me all Midas must have gloated over his gold. l outfitted two months in advance, so as to really wanted to try everything on then and train me to take care of my clothes and to there, but I decided to introduce myself to act out the part of a girl before l was put each change of attire at the time l would to the ultimate test. My usually longish wear it, to sort of spread the pleasure out. hair was permitted to grow even longer, and by the time the special session began it was When everything was in place -- dresses of a length suitable for a girl's coiffure. and skirts hanging neatly in the closet and I got a bit of razzing from my eighth-grade shoes in a shoe rack -- I stood back and classmates that Spring, but I discouraged smiled my appreciation. that by dealing out a bloody nose or two. Mother put an arm across my shoulder, her l 1 ll never forget that April day when face beaming. "l can see that you'll take Mom introduced me to my new wardrobe. My very good care of your wardrobe," she said, old feminine wardrobe which I'd used for "but don't you want to select an outfit to play purposes was nearly outgrown and it wear today?" was discarded entirely• to be replaced by new, up~to-date, perfectly fitting sub-deb ''l don't know where to begin," I said, clothes which brought joy to my heart. shyly, "and there's _!2 much to choose from." I'd just emerged m my morning shower "Why not start with the lingerie?" she that bright Saturday morning, and when l suggested. "That's the logical place to reached for my bathrobe, I found that it begin. Here, let me help you." had been replaced by a lovely pink negligee, all frothy with lace and ribbons. l knew She reached into a drawer and brought then t hat Mom had planned a surprise for out a delicate pair of pink lace panties me 9 so I slipped it on happily and rushed and a matching sub-teen bra.