When I read in the Sport about Miss Debbie Quorel’s studio in Stoke on Trent, I had to go there, even though it was miles, and look at the photos in...the catalogue the lady on reception had. I was hoping Miss Debbie might be there, even be in the middle of a photo-shoot and pop out the door wearing a sex-queen outfit to talk to the receptionist, making me spunk my pants in the process. But I did cum in my pants looking at the lovely pics in the catalogue and asking the lady if I could buy some. I ranover to take a look.Oh my.I was what I'd always wanted to look like. A beautiful girl in a gorgeusgown. My features were so delicate, my mannerisms so girlish. I lookedlike the princess I'd always wished to be when I was dressed en femme. Ialso looked to be a teenager.But where the hell was I?There was that boom again. And voices. Lots of angry voices.The door to the room burst open and a young girl in a plain dress andapron came running in."Oh Princess," she said distressed. "Princess, he. More

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