In thepicture, she was wearing a tight yellow and black sundress that felljust above the knees. Atop that was a white button up blouse. Her titslooked...massive in the dress... and rightfully so.Just the fact that I could really made everything seem just so muchsweeter to me. I dropped my finger down on to Christina's picture.Facebook exited, but the picture stayed where it was and slightlyshrunk down. "WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO WITH THIS FORM?" appeared onthe screen. Below it read the options. ‘Everyone else is telling me not to be scared, that they’ll get me out of here and I need to hang on but I don’t think they’re telling me the truth. I can’t feel anything below my waist, I feel like shit and it’s going to take them so long to get this beam off me and then when they do, I’m just going to die, Mandy… I’ve seen this on tv where they try to save a crush victim and they always die.’ ‘Kid, slow down sweetie, slow down.’ ‘Mandy, I don’t want to be told lies, I know I’m going to die. I. Such is the case now. I’m sitting in this armed, cushioned dining chair, dressed very casually in my plush orange robe and matching tiger print thong you’ve so thoughtfully decorated me with earlier this evening...Unwrapping our presents has never been so eagerly anticipated. You are magnificent to behold…your blonde hair bouncing upon your shoulders as you approach me.What a sight we two must be now as you sidle up just in front of me, reach down and part my masculine legs, step between them. I'm not really sure what I was thinking at this point. Iremember the feelings of the strange clothes; the oddconstriction of the bra and the silky softness of thepanties.Carol then handed me a pair of pantyhose and explained howto roll them up and then slide them up my legs. The hoseseemed to make what little hair I had disappear. It was alittle disconcerting that, with the hose on, there was nosign of my maleness.Then Carol handed me a white nylon slip and helped me getit over the rollers in.