“As in, the twentieth of Wintermarch?” He flushed and looked away, trying to hide his guilty expression from me. “As in the day we got married?�...� My tone was rising with each sentence, each word, and I stopped to take a deep breath and bring it back down to normal.Alistair stayed where he was, posture stiff, face turned away from me; I was mad, there was no doubt, but the only person I was angry with was myself – though it was clear Alistair was expecting something else. I walked up behind him,. A quickcheck in the full-length mirror revealed a rather voluptuous femaleform. Not having donned a wig yet, however, my immediate reaction tothe image I observed was that I looked very sissified.Lifting the fluffy pile of lacy petticoat from the bed, I swished it upmy thighs, settling it around my hips. Why was it, I wondered, that Iloved the heavy feeling of being surrounded by the petticoat slip? Icould not describe it. Finally, I pulled the pretty, pink dress over myhead, helping it to. More

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