The year 1989 marks the 100th anniversary of the Brassiere, as it was first called, an item of apparel dear to the hearts of all transvestites. I find it hard to conceive of a time without the bra, so integral has it become to feminine fashion in our culture. It and the jockstrap are the only garments that have an anatomical function limited to one sex; all other clothing takes its gender from the culture. A male wearing a bra can only be doing so for the pleasure of it, as we all well know.

Camille Jean Laignaux goes out on a Daddy/Daughter date while forces around her chose their sides. What will Mr. Jack do when his well thought out plans begin to fall apart?

Copyright © 2017 by AuP reviner

What is Victoria up to when Mercy might be grounded for the weekend?
Make up her own fun? Sure!
But Victoria's plans are thoroughly messed up when a mysterious woman shows up at her doorstep.
To make matters worse the woman asks rather pointily questions.

Chapter 1 General Pearson's POV

I watched the recorded press conference and subsequent kidnapping footage from the beginning. This was looking like a clusterfuck and I wanted nothing to do with it. Rule number one, if you are going to make someone disappear, no one must know about it.

“Faggot!” bellows the mighty bully at small dear ole me. I gave him no reaction for I knew that he thrived on attention. Instead, I slip deeper into my mask to hide what I was feeling on the inside.

“Why hello Gage. Nice to see you.” I say in a neutral tone. I keep my ground. Showing any emotion to the bully will only make things worse.

“Why do you play with girls all the time? Are you one of those tranny freaks?” Gage spits. How in the world did he learn that word? Most kids shouldn’t even understand that word. I guess that makes two of us

The Loft

Sometime around platform number three I stopped to rest, because everyone else had stopped to rest. I sat, legs splayed in front of me; arms, like a tripod, behind me. Autumn and Sarah were discussing the play we were doing, as if they had both read it. Because they had both read it. The discussion centered around the set design, and had nothing whatever to do with the rest of the play.

As a result of dressing as a girl for my French class project, I was spending more and more time as a girl. While Sandy had been enthusiastic about my cross-dressing at the start, she seemed less and less in favor of it as time progressed and I spent more time en femme. She wanted a boyfriend.

My Father just didn’t like it. He was reluctant to discuss my cross-dressing; he left it to my Mother to tell me of his concerns. “Your Father had hoped that your cross-dressing was a phase and that you would grow out of it.” she said, “Now he thinks that you might be turning into a girl. He thinks that you are more girl than boy, and he wants you to go to counseling.”

Sandy shared my Dad’s concerns. Therefore, I agreed to go to counseling.

CHAPTER 8
It didn’t last, of course, and I was back in uniform after only four weeks, but I learned an awful lot in that short time. Years later I was talking to an engineer about some car fiddle or other, and he told me that in his college they had a sign hanging in the workshop.

“I hear--- I forget.
I see--- I remember,
I DO--- I understand”