“So I understand,” she said, “But I do believe the constable will believe my tale when I scream and say how you tore my clothes and sought to ra...ish me.”“Really?” I queried as she tried in vain to tear her dress. “Allow me.”I grasped the shoulders of her dress and it ripped right down the front, I ripped aside the bindings of her mounds freeing them, “Remind me, did I ravish you or merely attempt to?”“I care not, make me an offer or I go to the magistrate!” she snapped“Twenty shillings for. You see I am not a bad looking guyand I am not gay or something. It's just ... I don't know ... I always feltkind of different. Sometimes I wished I could be a girl or a woman but justfor a day or so. I have never been sure if it was just curiosity or anobsession, some suppressed feelings or an afterglow of a former life.Driven by such feelings I became a closet cross dresser. But maybe this isalready a too big name for it. I tried different feminine items andsometimes found they brought me. More

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