“Ahh,” I sigh as I climb into the back of the black London taxi. After being on my feet for almost three hours- especially feet that are contained with platform stiletto heels- the feeling of being able to sit down is almost orgasmic.

“Do you want some time alone with your seat?” Sarah giggles as she slides onto the seat next to me.

“Maybe if the seat was a washing machine,” I whisper to Sarah, making her almost double over in a fit of giggles.

James Winrox had a secret. Yes, he preached against men turning themselves into women, but secretly he wanted just that. You might have called him a hypocrite, but he felt it was part of his dual nature as a Christian. Now, he shivered in his slinky pink jumpsuit that really were just pink pajamas. He wasn't even angry at his government as he took in his surroundings. He was afraid that he was going to enjoy this, even now he was getting hard in the regulation pink panties they had put him in.

Lost in Translation Prologue – A Walk in the Park by Persephone

Sometimes going through transition can feel like you're walking through a minefield. And sometimes you actually are...
 
Author's Note: I hope that you find some small pleasure in this tale. As ever please be tolerant of my failings, and forthright with your criticism. ~Persephone
 

It's said that every step you take in your life leads up to one moment, one defining point of your life that you can look back on and say 'this is who I am, this is my contribution to the world'. If this is the case... Then it's a very strange set of steps that led me to where I am today.

“God, I don’t know why I’M so nervous,” I mumble as I fidget in my seat. “It’s not like I’m going to be the one dancing up there…”

In a shop call PIRATES PLUS a bored looking shopkeeper is polishing a cutlass. The bell over the front door jingles and a man wearing a long mack enters, awkwardly, trying to open and close the door while wheeling in what appears to be a pirate tied to a dolly.

“I wish to register a complaint! It's about this pirate, that I purchased not a half hour ago for our INTERNATIONAL TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY celebration tonight, at this very boo-tique."

“Ah yes, the Nassau Bluebeard, what's wrong with him?”

“What's wrong with him?! He's DEAD! You sold me a dead pirate!”

My first two quarters with the company went much like the day I just described. It started with a 5am wake up. I showered and carefully groomed myself. I left the house in khakis and a dress shirt by 6am. By 6:30, I was on the train in Waukegan downtown. I am off the train at 7:30. After a twenty minute walk, I am standing before the doors of Fashionable Inc. Others will crowd around us, a male face or two I recognize from orientation. We will all offer perfunctory greetings, but otherwise we are simple and too the point. At 8am the doors open, and we are up and going in.

“Happy birthday dear Rachel…” The assembled crowd sang as the birthday girl cringed behind her voluminous blonde hair, “happy birthday to you… To you… To you… To you to you to you… To you… To you… To you to you to you!” Rachel giggled at the crowd’s use of the tune of Cyndi Lauper’s hit ‘Girl Just Wanna Have Fun’ to extend her embarrassment further, before brushing her hair out of her face and blowing out the 29 candles that had been placed on her cake- which was, of course, shaped exactly like the hat she and all her friends wore as part of their uniform.

My friends used to joke... (albeit wrongly, I would add.)

What's separates a crossdresser from a transsexual? About two years and therapy.

"Come on," George whispers, looking every bit as terrified as I am. "Mr. Jackson has said we can go into form early so that we- well, you- don't have the rest of the form staring at you."

"Okay," I whisper.

"Mr. Jackson your form tutor?" Megan- who has joined the 'convoy' of myself, George and Priya- asks.

"Yeah," I say as I take step after step on my quivering legs.