This isn’t you. You’re still in there somewhere. I couldn’t believe women wore these all the time. They were tiny, barely covering what they nee...ed to cover, yet the shorts barely covered any more than that. I had to yank them over my hips, suck in to get them buttoned, and I suspected if I bent over in the mirror I’d see cheek. I slipped the shoes on and was out the stall. Jess hunched over the sink, picking an eyelash out of her eye. ‘I can’t believe you were going to wear these shorts. Cock in hand is a distinct possibility, happy days...Stage 3 - Public appearance, No I do not plan to tell my few precious friends what I get up to, but it would be nice to 'do the town' in full convincing drag. Thank god for small feet (UK size 6/7).Stage 4 - Move to a country where gender is less important such as Amsterdam, must be others in Europe too.Part 3 - going out. So how do I feel when I am in girlie mode, here is a fictional story I wrote about Stage3+Let's call me Tasmin. I am. I have been observing your behaviour on the football field for quite some time now and I have to say boy, that you have a tendency to display certain very unsporting traits to members of the opposing side. Now I agree that football is a rough sort of sport and that players expect and accept that they will receive certain rather painful blows during any game; but you, young man, seem to go out of your way in every match to make sure that some member of the opposing team gets a totally. I can see that the one-time soldier has his doubts in me, but he doesn’t voice them. I like him already.“Mind if I get this group in some kind of order?” I nod, and he turns and starts yelling out orders. The sports teams ‘Fall-In’ in quick order, likely because they’re used to taking orders from coaches. The various friends see what’s happening, and figure it out as well. Once everyone is lined up in loose rows, Wilson turns back to me and salutes. “They’re all yours, sir.”I return the salute.