>              Stepping Out

>              by Erica Mann

It was just another dreary little afternoon at home alone, with
not much to do but play dress-up.... It turned into something
else....

Well, here I am again, all dressed up with no place to go. That's
not quite true. I'm actually only partly dressed. I have on those
wonderful thigh-high fishnet stockings, the black wicked looking
ones, and of course my nice black patent pumps. So I look a
little slutty,... I like that... it makes me feel... sexy. Oh!...
and my makeup base,... I have that on, too.

Today it was such a bitch. Eric, the dear, cut himself shaving,
so when I started to put on my makeup, my face was bleeding!
Sometimes I think men are such clumsy oafs, and that goes for my
other half.

For any of you who still don't know what this is all about, Eric
is not my husband, he's my other +me.' Like most of you reading
this, ... wait a minute....

... I'm back..., where was I? Oh, yes,... I am a "genetic
heterosexual male transvestite" (I think those are the technical
words) -- a man who likes women usually and who likes to wear
women's clothing and experience +his' female persona more
directly.

Where I went was to finish my face. I am really beginning to
appreciate women's so-called "foibles." Putting on makeup makes
you sorely aware of your every facial flaw. No wonder we girls
worry about it so.

I love doing this... getting all pretty and then sitting down to
write a lascivious little story that sometimes is pure fantasy,
and sometimes is not; and sometimes is something I want to do
very much, and sometimes is something I would never do.... So you
can try to figure it out if you want, or you can just enjoy it.

I'm doing something a little different today... I thought I'd
just mix it up a bit and write as I get ready and go through my
afternoon as Erica. So now I'm going to go get some more clothes
on... see you in a few, love.

Hi again... that wasn't long.... I have one of my favorite things
on,... one of my corsets. I have them custom made, and I love the
way they make me look and feel. By whittling my waist so much,
and then kind of pushing me up, and down, they make my hips look
more curvy and even give me a little bustline. And they feel so
delicious. Cinched tight, I have this lightheaded feeling of
constriction, while feeling erotically exposed. They make we walk
and stand straight and tall in my heels. The few dresses I have
bought were selected because they were loose enough or styled so
as to conceal a corset underneath.

The one I have on was my very first -- a black satin one with
only a 31" waist (Eric has a 34" waist, and Erica has one corset,
of white brocade and lace, that gives her a 26" waist).

Anyway, here I am.... This is a special week for me. It's the
first time that I have pretty regularly come out in the privacy
of our apartment all done up, and with a wig. I don't have one
yet, but I'll probably be getting one today or Friday. (This one
is on loan from my Mistress.) I have to call someone in about a
half an hour to see if I can go shopping today. Cynthia runs a
little boutique that Eric and I like... everything a brand new
lovely lady might need, from shoes to wigs... toe to tip, you
might say.

What excitement, just thinking about shopping for all the things
I need. My biggest fantasies this week have been about being with
other TVs, attractive ones, and dressing together, making each
other up, sharing stories and ideas, and touching, and maybe....
Oooh! I have to stop again....

... well, she's not back, but I am. This is Eric. Slutty little
Erica got all excited about playing with some other she-male that
she went and did it... with herself, of course.

But Erica comes back real quick... she's already partly here,
enough so that she still has some of her regalia on. As Eric, I
get really uncomfortable sitting around dressed up the way that
Erica likes, but usually I don't have to for long.

One thing I've noticed as Eric. I've noticed women more, what
they wear, how they makeup their faces (I look at the eyes a lot
-- they tell more than words could about a woman's sexuality), I
notice how attractive their bodies are -- but more to see how
clothes would look on them than I would have as a man. I imagine
myself inside of them, experiencing being in their particular
body, and how I would feel about it, how I might choose to
project my sexuality if I were them. It makes every day very
exciting, so that I can always sense the presence of Erica, close
by.

... ahem, you silly, sometimes I quite completely take over, and
he knows it, even though he may be all dressed up in a suit and
at work, and even though he usually has a pair of my laciest
panties on. Now it's time to give Cynthia a call...

... oooh good! She's in and will be able to see me today.... Bye,
bye, I have to get ready and go. Too bad I have to take off all
this makeup, oh well, it will be fun anyway....

... I'm back, and it's really late.... I spent almost three hours
at Cynthia's, and over $600.00 dollars, but I have lots of
wonderful new things! ... And there's some special news, but that
will wait. I want to tell you about my visit to Cynthia's first.

Cynthia's shop is in an modern apartment in a nearby suburb. It
couldn't be more discreet or private. It's a neat place, very
lushly decorated with lots of plush and lots of mirrors to see
yourself in. I'd love to have a little hen party right there,
just an intimate group of two or three TVs and three or four real
ladies, spending the whole time trying on different lingerie and
sexy underthings and parading around for each other. All the
girls giving each other little tips and making each other up.
Ooooh! what a delight!

It was a little like that today. Cynthia remembered me. Her eyes
lit up when she saw my shopping list, and she headed for the
rooms where she keeps her stock. I went right to the bathroom and
undressed, hanging up Eric's clothes, and stepping out in just my
heels and hose and a pair of panties, carrying my 28 inch black
corset in my hand. Cynthia emerged with an armload of bras and
panties and a small box.

She stopped to look at me for a moment and then said, "I think I
ought to show you makeup first. Then you can choose what you want
to wear and I'll show you how to do it." She's a short little
woman and quite chubby. She looks like someone's Mom. She looked
over the top of her glasses at me and announced, "I don't do this
for everybody, Eric."

"I do appreciate it Cynthia. Do you want me to wear this to try
things on?" I held out my corset.

"Yes, but not right now." She set her armload down and went into
the back room. She returned with a nice little makeup kit in her
hand. She sat down at the table and spilled it out. There were
all sorts of blushes, lip glosses, eye makeup, brushes, all of
the necessary accoutrements. Then she started to show me colors.
We talked over each one and she asked me some questions about how
I wanted to look. I explained that I wanted to be able to have a
range of looks from a subdued look to a flirtatious or even vampy
look, depending on my mood.

Making a final choice, she had me sit again so she could work on
my face. She held up a small bottle filled with a flesh colored
cream, "This is Covermark. It's very good." She began to apply it
all over my face. I kept my eyes closed. "It will cover just
about anything," she went on, "but you have to use all three
products, the makeup in your shade -- that's a medium, but you
could use a light for a more innocent look, then the shading
cream -- here under your eyes, on the side of your nose like
this, and under it... a little here on the chin is good, too...
it helps bring back the natural contours of your face so it
doesn't look like a mask -- then you use the finishing powder to
set it all. There!" She leaned back to look at her handiwork.
"Look in the mirror. Careful, the powder takes about ten minutes
to set the foundation, then we'll have to brush it off."

I did. "See," she pointed, "this is where I put the shading
cream." I nodded.

"Now what color wig did you want?"

"I think an auburn, or something that would work with my own
color, but nicer. I think of Eric's brown hair as being a little
drab looking. Don't you think?"

"Yes, that's right. You don't want to pick something that is way
off your natural color -- a blonde or red in your case, a jet
black wouldn't do, either." 

She scurried out to the back room again, coming back in seven or
eight minutes with several wigs in brown and auburn colors.

She held up the first. It was a frosted shag that seemed a little
wild and not as long as I liked. "I think longer would be better,
and wavier, more stylish in a conservative way, you know what I
mean, don't you?"

"I think so, Erica." She had just slipped right into it, using my
name for the first time. I tingled. "I don't have a lot that will
fit you right. You need a pretty large wig, dear. Let's see," she
pulled out a long wig in an auburn shade, just what I had
imagined as I had described what I wanted. "There's this one.
It's a little duller, but you can't really tell, it's part of my
older stock, and it's on sale, half price. Well, let's finish
your face first."

She looked at the eye colors she had chosen, "I think what I have
in mind will work very nicely with your coloring."

She picked up the first container and opened it. She showed it to
me. "I'm going to use the lavender and darker purple shades, with
maybe a highlight of the rosy color -- it has a bluish tone, too.
You can mix and match within a set like this. This one has four
colors, but there are some with more. Usually they are matched up
so that they will work together, even in some unusual
combinations."

She was more like my second grade teacher than my Mom. She loved
doing this. I loved it, too, since each moment meant that I was
that much closer to my day of stepping out. I felt all goose
bumps and turned on.

"Here, close this eye and look up at the wall there." She pointed
with the pencil she had. "This is where most of you girls mess it
up. You need to apply this with short little strokes,.... Hold
still!" I had jerked as the pencil point touched my eyelid.

"Sorry, this is hard for me."

"You'll get used to it. It's not that hard to do, you just put a
little at a time so you get it neat and close to the edge. You
try on the other eye."

I leaned over to look in the mirror and imitated her strokes. My
hand shook a little and I messed up the last bit of it.

"I'll fix that, but you have the right idea. Just take your time.
Here. Open your eyes and look up. Do underneath the same way,
it's a little trickier, but you can do it. Start about halfway
out on the lower lids, it makes your eyes look wider apart and
bigger."

I couldn't help flinching a bit as she did both eyes. Then she
drew the line out a little more at the corner of my eyes. "This
will make you look +vampy-er' -- is that a word? There! Now,
let's curl those lovely, long lashes and use a little mascara.
For this look I'm going to use a shade with a lavender color to
it," she was clamping my left lashes in one of those
scissors-like things, "It's quite dark, though. You'll want to
have a plain black, too."

Despite my still evident masculinity, she was treating me as I
had long imagined it would be like, just girls together. She
showed me how to use a brush or pencil to outline my lips before
I used the lip color to fill in.

"See?" She turned me toward the mirror. "Now for the blusher and
a little highlight on your forehead and we'll be done."

She brushed the bright blush under each cheekbone, sweeping up.
"You have nice cheekbones, so we can just accentuate them a bit
like this to really bring them out. Or we can add a little more
color and give you more of that vamp look you like, like this.
There, what do you think?"

I looked my face over in the mirror. It was a fabulous job but it
didn't quite feel right. I said so.

"Oh, we'll have to put a wig on you. That's why."

She held up the one I had chosen, and began to slip it on over
Eric's hair. It fit nicely, snug all around, but big enough to
come down close to my ears and cover up Eric's short sideburns.
The long waves fell over my shoulders and down to my bustline. I
looked up to see Erica staring back at me from the mirror, her
crowning auburn glory looking natural and very sexy.

"It's just right!" I cried, "I love it!"

"Great! Do you want to look at any of these others. Maybe you'd
like two?"

"Sure, why not?" I left the auburn wig on though. Nothing would
make me part with it just then. Cynthia held up the others for me
to judge. There was only one that I was interested in. It was a
long, long, off-black or very dark brown, fairly straight but
with some wave to it.

"You'd need to darken your brows a bit with a pencil," she
offered, as I slipped out of the first one and put the new one
on. "Here, let me do it so you can see what I mean." She selected
a pencil from her assortment and used it in short hairlike
strokes to darken and shape my brows. I looked up at the mirror.
She was right. With that touch it was perfect! It was positively
wicked looking!

"How much for both of them?"

"Let's see," she pulled up at the back of the one I wore to see
the tag. She only needed a glimpse. "Very lucky, this one's on
sale, too. This is $30, and the other is $25. I'll let you have
both of them for $50. How's that?"

"That's great! Thanks." I was very pleased with myself. I'd
planned on more for just one wig.

"Now, let's do this one on top of your head so it will be easier
to try things on." She was already piling coils of the nearly
black hair on my head, twisting it and then pinning it. She
showed me where she was putting the clips to be secure but
concealed from view. The effect was very Eighteen Nineties,
Gibson Girl style. I imagined being in a room full of lovely sexy
ladies, slowly unpinning it and letting my long hair fall free to
my waist....

"Here, try this on." She handed me a black lace bra, made with a
wide band so that it came another inch and a half below the
underwires in the cups. "It's a 38B. It's a nice style because it
doesn't ride up very easily, but it's still a bandeau with
straps. I think it will work nicely with your corset."

I slipped it on fastening it in back with the tightest fitting of
the two sets of hooks. It had four hooks in back. The spandex was
about two inches wide there. I adjusted it in front so that my
own nipples were about the right place in the cups, and then
fitted the straps, shortening them just a bit. The band below the
cups was a lovely stretch lace, and the cups were lace, too,
about three quarter size. A u-shaped wire held them apart giving
it a very decollete look.

Cynthia had opened the box and held one of the breastforms in her
hand. It looked like a shapeless sack of gelatin the way she held
it, but as she began to tuck it into my left cup, I could see
that it had a definite shape, even to a softly protruding nipple.
She fussed a bit, fitting the flat side against my chest and
moving it around to get it just right. Then she picked up the
other one.

"These are very realistic. They have a nice flesh tone and you
can cement them on with surgical cement. They have this skin-like
covering instead of fabric, so they take makeup well, and with a
few artistic touches they can look quite real, even nude."

"Can we try them that way now?"

"Sure, take off the bra. By the way, do you like it?"

"Oh, yes." It was quite lovely, and very comfortable. I had to
struggle a bit to get it unhooked.

She picked up another bottle and began to use the brush in the
cap to coat the flat side of the breastform. She waited a minute
before she tested to see how tacky the cement was. Then she held
it up to me, getting the position right before she placed it.

"It's better if you don't have any hair there, dear, but it's too
late now, isn't it?" She pressed it against me. I felt the glue
take hold. She held it firmly for a moment, and then she began to
press selectively around the edges, making a firm bond. "You have
to make sure you get it right, and don't get any air pockets.
They affect the shape, and they might let it peel off at an
inopportune moment. You work it like this, pressing out to the
edges. And then you check around the edges. If it's not quite
attached, just brush a little more cement in the crack and blow
on it before you press it down. The cement needs to be a little
tacky to work. Here's a spot." She fixed it as she had just
described.

She began to prepare the other one, after first positioning it
against my skin to make sure she knew where it would go once the
cement was ready. I felt the weight of the left one. I squeezed
it gently to see what the texture was like. It was uncannily like
a real breast, moving gently when I let go. The firm attachment
to the skin of my chest pulled a little, but in a very natural
way -- more like the silicone filled bag was really a part of me
and not just fastened on. Only the very even color which was
slightly paler than my own skin tone really gave it away. When
they were both in place, I looked in the mirror and gave a little
shimmy. The motion was perfectly natural.

Cynthia showed me how to use makeup to hide the edges and use the
shading cream to give the breasts a completely genuine look. I
was delighted, even at $225 dollars. Then she showed me how to
put my brassiere on by bending over so that my breasts hung free
and then letting them fill the bra cups as I pulled it on, before
standing up to fasten it in back. I had never realized how you
girls did it. Or maybe Eric was just unobservant.... Come to
think of it, his taste does run to small breasted women....

My breasts seemed to be almost ready to burst out of the cups. I
was surprised with my own voluptuousity.

"What size are these, they seem very full."

"I gave you a C. They run just a bit smaller than they are sized,
maybe half a size, but it's nicer to be just a little overfull.
Flat-chested girls are always so unhappy about it, take my word."

I liked the look, so I guess I agreed with her.

"Now why don't you get into your corset."

I stood up to fasten the black satin around me. Cynthia leaned
over to help with the laces. The corset was partly loosened from
the bottom up so I could put it on, but it pulled tight pretty
easily. She tied the laces and tucked them in in back after
slipping the lace protector between my skin and the garment. Then
it was quick work for both of us to fasten the garters to my
thigh highs. The corset fit smoothly right over the band of the
bra where it came up below my wonderful new breasts. It was very
comfortable and gave me a nice line. I faced the mirror and gave
another delighted shimmy. I was feeling more feminine by the
minute.

Cynthia held up the panties to match the bra and I nodded, taking
them from her. I stood up and stepped out of the pair I had on
and then slid the new ones up my fishnet clad legs. They were
thong cut, and went high over my hips with a narrow back that
nestled in the crack between the cheeks of my bottom. In front,
they came down in a vee of lace that formed a nice pouch just big
enough to hold my soft sex. The cut was obviously to designed to
display rather than conceal a woman's pubic mound by fitting
snugly in the crease of the thigh and almost forcing the mound to
protrude.

"Here, look through these, and see if there's anything else you
want, while I go get a couple of outfits for you to try on."

While she was gone, I sorted through the pile of bra's and
panties, there were some garter belts, too -- one that matched
the set I was wearing. I took that, and a similar white set, and
then one more in a peach that was a little different. The panty
was cut a little fuller, but the bra was a skinny little half-cup
of sheer lace. There was a garter belt for that one. I checked
over the prices and added up in my head. This was getting
expensive, but, god, how I loved it! I was in heaven.

Then Cynthia returned with an even bigger armload. When she put
most of the things down, she handed me the first one. I stood up
and held it in front of me. It was a very slinky number in black,
made of some kind of knit, with a long full skirt and a cowl
neckline that was actually cut to drape fairly low. The dolman
sleeves were very full and long. It was quite a dramatic dress. I
unzipped it, and stepped into it very carefully. This was not one
of Cynthia's cheaper items. As I slipped the padded shoulders
into place, Cynthia stepped up behind me and began to zip the
dress up. I wasn't sure that it would work. I expected the corset
to show through the fabric. But as Cynthia zipped me up, I saw
that the draped styling all around my waist concealed the
undergarment very well. It was stunning, and I looked stunning in
it. Not loud, mind you, but a kind of softly subdued sexy.

"I've been waiting for someone that that dress would look good
on. It's perfect. It's a 14 Tall that's cut just a little big."

"Are you giving me the hard sell, Cynthia?" I asked archly.

"Darling, you only come out once, and that's the dress that you
ought to come out in. Don't take my word for it, look for
yourself. I'll get some accessories and you'll know." She left me
again.

I turned and looked in the mirror. It was hard for me to not see
Eric's features staring back at me, but I just tried to get the
whole picture, without looking too closely at any part of what
was reflected back at me. I turned. I took a few steps. The skirt
swirled around my legs. I began to wonder, even hope, about what
she had said,... "come out." It sounded so formal, like a
debutante's ball. I looked at my legs again,... there was one
thing I had to change....

"Cynthia," I called out.

"Yes, Erica?"

"Could you bring a nice pair of nylons, I think sheer black with
seams...."

"Sure."

I hiked up the skirt and unfastened my garters, then I sat and
rolled down my fishnets. Cynthia came back with a box full of
jewelry and a package of nylons. I took the package and opened
it. They were very nice stockings... seamed with reinforced toe
and heel, very sexy. I rolled one down and slipped it on. The
foot stretched enough so that the heel fit nicely and when I had
smoothed them up my thighs, I found that they were almost as long
as my fishnets, coming nearly up to my crotch. I rolled the other
one one and stood with my skirt bunched up to fasten the garters.
Fortunately Cynthia was there to help or I couldn't have managed
very easily.

She then started to take things out of the box, earrings, pins,
hair ornaments. Together we picked out a nice rhinestone set. The
earrings were clip-ons... a snowflake-like shape with dozens of
rays glittering with stones, and dangling rows of more crystals
that brushed my neck an inch and a half below the lobe. They were
heavy, but they hung nicely on my ears and the weight felt sexy.
There was a matching necklace with a larger starburst. It rested
just at the top of my breastbone and drew the eye to the glimpses
of swelling breasts revealed by the neckline of the dress. A
similar pin, Cynthia fastened into my hair after letting it
partly down. The dark locks trailed partway down my back from the
knot she left on top of my head. A nice rhinestone bracelet was a
finishing touch. I looked in the mirror again.

I shook my head waving my thick mane behind me, and once again
took it all in. I tried to look as if I imagined someone seeing
me for the first time might look at me. What I saw was a very
tall lady, but a lady. Her features were prominent, but so well
made-up that they were not unfeminine. Clearly I could see my own
faults better than some unbiased bystander. I began to believe
that I might actually be able to pass. I had no idea of how to
use my voice. As Erica, I had always had a voice in my mind, but
I had never tried to practice much, feeling quite silly the few
times I did. Cynthia seemed to anticipate my thoughts.

"You see it now, don't you? You look wonderful. Now all you have
to do is just speak quite softly, don't try to make your voice
higher, just let it be, and speak softly."

I spoke, just trying to let Erica come through, "Yes, you are
right, dear. It looks lovely."

"That was perfect!"

"It was?" I quacked in a broken mix of this new voice and Eric's
old one.

"Yes, it was. Just relax."

I looked in the mirror again, swirled my skirt as I turned and
walked across the room. Turning and coming back I watched myself
in the mirror. By just letting my body flow and move easily,
there was a nice sway to my hips. The heels made it easy. My arms
moved pretty naturally as long as I didn't think about them.
Mostly it was there. A little more practice, a little more
relaxed... and it would work.

Then my fantasies really began to shift. I would still visit with
Mistress this Saturday, but maybe Erica would do something she
had never expected to be able to do. Dreamed, maybe, but never
really believed. Erica would finally come out! My heart leaped
with excitement.

I turned and hugged Cynthia, bending down to put my arms around
her. She struggled for a second, surprised, and then put her
chubby arms around my waist and squeezed. She knew what she had
shown me. The door was open.

We kind of played around for the rest of the time, trying on
different things, chatting, fooling around with my makeup. I told
her what I planned, and she was just as excited for me as I was
myself. Cynthia suggested that I go to Tanya's, a local club for
TS's and TV's. I could even go this night. She was a contributing
member. It was good for business. She persuaded me to leave her
place as Erica, in my lovely new outfit, and go straight to the
meeting. She could give me directions, and she'd call to tell
them she was sponsoring me. That way I would be able to go
straight there and not go through the business of making a call
from a phone booth and being met.

That decided, she helped me with my nails, fixing them up just
fabulously. We were both buzzing with excitement. She made me
promise to come by on Friday and tell her all about it. No, of
course I didn't have to buy anything else. She just wanted to
hear all about my "coming out."

"Oooh!" she said as she helped me back into the black dress,
"it's late, you need to get going. They all usually get there by
about eight and if they are going out, they'll be gone by
eight-thirty. It's almost seven fifteen now!"

She quickly added up my purchases up. The dress I was wearing was
surprisingly low, only $95, but with the underthings, a second
more casual dress, the maid's outfit, my lovely new breasts, the
various makeup and jewelry, a purse to go with the dress, and the
two wigs, it all came to about $675. I wrote out the check and
thanked her. Then, picking up my collection of shopping bags
(Eric's clothes were in the bottom of one of them) I took one
last look in the mirror and a very deep breath as she opened the
door.

"Go on. You look lovely. You'll be just fine, Erica. I'll call
them right now so someone will be watching for you. Have a
wonderful evening."

"Thank you, Cynthia, thank you so much. I don't know if you
really know what this means to me?"

"I think I do. Now go on, be wonderful." She went up on tiptoes
as I bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. I turned and
walked into the hallway.

I felt like I was stepping into a whole new world. Every sense
was attuned to the sights and sounds around me. The staccato
click of my heels on the tile floor sounded entirely different
than it ever had to me. It was as if I was hearing another woman
walking beside me. It wasn't me. I put down a bag and pressed the
elevator button and waited nervously, not ready to encounter
anyone at close quarters.

I ended up not having the choice. The elevator stopped on the way
down and an older gentleman got on. He touched his hat and nodded
to me before standing beside me in front of the door. I glanced
at him discreetly a couple of times to see if he was staring, but
as people will on elevators, he was acting almost as if I wasn't
there, except for an occasional glance at my feet and the bit of
ankle the long skirt left uncovered. He seemed ever so
slightly... well..., interested. I began to wonder how I could
fend off a pass without blowing my cover. Then the doors opened
and he nodded as he reached out to hold the door and let me out
in front of him. He walked just behind me to the lobby entrance
-- I could help letting my hips sway just a little more brazenly
than a lady might -- he opened both the inner and outer doors for
me. And then, as we stepped outside, he finally said something.

"Do you need any help to your car, Miss?"

I felt as if I must have been trembling like a leaf. I couldn't
distinguish the fear from the excitement. +Miss' he said. What
felt like minutes of dead silence as he waited for my response,
was at most only a short pause. Then, softly, with my energy
focused on being Erica and being completely at home as Erica, I
answered. "Yes, thank you. That's very thoughtful of you." And as
if it was the most natural thing in the world, I handed him one
of the bags, and began to fish in my new purse for my car keys as
I led him off toward my car.

Erica was finally in the world!