It was a normal Friday afternoon (or so I thought) when I left work. The weather was sunny and the sky blue. I was in a good mood as I was going to spend the weekend en-femme and also indulging in my other favourite pastime of riding my Bike.

I sat astride my weekday machine, put my open face crash helmet on, adjusted my flying goggles and kicked the aged but very beautiful '69 Bonnieville into life.

The ride home was done almost in a flash such that my mind was really elsewhere. Thank god for built-in "autopilots".

Once home, I parked the Bonnie next to my other special machine and hurried into my house. The package was there as I had left it that very morning. My heart was racing as I picked it up and ran upstairs.

I stripped naked and went to the bathroom. I checked my body all over. All the effort I had put in the previous evening was not in vain. I was totally hairless from the neck down.

I ran the water into the sink until it was really hot. I rinsed a flannel in the water and applied it to my face. I held it in place with one hand while I prepared my cutthroat razor for use.

I gave myself a very close shave for the second time that day. My chin was very smooth.

Upon entering the bedroom, I sat at my vanity table and prepared to put on my Makeup. Concealer, Foundation and dusting powder provided the base from which to work.

Gold & Brown eye shadow blended together.

Black eyeliner along both lids ending in a little upward 'tick'.
A Light touch with the black eye brow pencil accentuated the eyes. I always loved my eyes.

False lashes top & bottom followed by lots of ink black mascara completed the eyes. I loved the feeling I got from wearing them.

Now for my lips, brown for the outer line followed by a deep ruby red. Perfect.

I brushed my receding hair out of the way and put on the blonde bob styled wig that was sitting on the polystyrene head to my left.
I slipped a pair of silver studs into the single piercing in both ears and that was my head all done.

I trimmed a little from my nails with an emery board and applied a couple of coats of red nail polish. My toes were already that colour.

Then I glued my breast forms in place. I loved the feeling they gave especially when not wearing a bra.

I opened the drawer to my right and pulled out a black suspender belt and a pair of 10-denier black stocking. These were special extra long ones I had purchased in Paris while on a trip to the Le Mans 24hr bike race last year. These came right to the top on my thighs. Perfect. I gently put the stockings on and attached them to the suspenders.

From the same drawer I pulled out a pair of lace knickers. The design matched the lacy stocking tops and the suspender belt. I put them on and tucked my penis out of the way. This was not so easy as I was getting quite excited about the next step.

I went over to the bed and opened the package. I pulled out the contents. My heart was racing. It was gorgeous.

I undid the zips on the front and legs and slipped into the soft leather cocoon. The fur lining tickled my skin. I slid my feet into the 5-inch heels and did up the small zips at both ankles. I slid the suit up over my body and fed my arms into the holes. The attached gloves were of even softer leather but still fur lined.

My whole bodies shivered as I did up the front zip and felt the high collar faster around my neck.

I pulled out the leather helmet from the wrapping and zipped it to the suit. I then settled my mouth around the built in gag. I was totally encased in soft fur lined leather apart from my eyes.

I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. I was a beauty in black.
Lastly, I put on the 1950's style 'pudding basin' crash helmet and prepared to leave my home,

I shut the front door behind me and opened the garage. Not the Bonnieville this time but something more fitting for someone encased in black.

I opened the petrol cocks and tickled the twin carbs. I set the timing to fully retard and pulled the valve lifter in. I folded out the kick-start and gently eased the big V-Twin over a couple of compressions. It felt really strange doing this in high heels. I brought the rear pot up to compression before giving a big heave and letting go if the valve lifter at the same time. The powerful engine caught first time and settled into an easy tick-over.

I stepped over the saddle and eased the big beast off its rear stand. It felt so different from the many times I have done this before.
I pulled the in the clutch and pressed down with my right foot and engaged first gear. I gently let it out and I was off.

I headed out of my drive and onto the winding road down the glen. With the sun slowly setting behind me, I took off into up the west coast of Skye past the Talisker Distillery and towards the ancestral home of my clan, the Macleods.

Two hours later as the darkness increased I was heading back up the glen doing well over the ton. The big black 1953 Vincent 'Black Prince' (why did they never make a Black Princess?) was going well. I never saw the aged Volvo 240DL driving tourist who was hopelessly lost in the gathering gloom. I knew in an instant that this was it as I came round the corner to find him straddling the whole road.

My last thoughts in this life were of my heroine. Marianne Faithful in the 1969 film, 'Girl on a Motorcycle'…

- This is a re-post of a story I posted in 2004 on storysite. It was one of the first TG stories I ever wrote and remains one of my favourites.
I remember sneaking into the Embassy Cinema to see Girl on a Motorcycle. I was under age at the time te-he. She rode a Harley. Well it was a V-Twin at least.