“Me? I’m not important” came the female voice as a girl materialised in front of you. She was a cream coloured girl wearing what looked like som... sort of pink Perisan attire with two strips of pink cloth covering her chest, hooking around her neck and feeding back into themselves. A flowing pink skirt fell to her knees. Both of these garments were see-through everywhere, but for the parts that mattered. “But you are the important one” the girl purred, her flowing pink hair swaying behind her.. At home I never wore any of the clothes mom wantedme to wear. If she put me in a dress when we weren't going to church Iwould rip it apart. At one point mom developed a counter-measure and hadus attend one every day, forcing me to dress like a girl every day. Notuntil she saw how much I hated it did she stop it. "Fine missy! Wearwhatever you like!" she had said to me angrily.That was just what I did as well. I was ten years old now and proclaimedthat nobody would ever see me wearing a dress. More

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