I think I looked my best as I swayed fearfully in my high heels, letting Gord put his arm about me, to lead me into the ball. Funny, but there was a red carpet all the way in. We had to stop and talk to someone with a shoulder-held camera. Then, I had to step gracefully, femininely, away from Gord and show off my dress, smiling all the time. I could hear Rose's voice, telling me to think girlish thoughts, as another man began to take pictures of me.
No, they didn't want pictures if Gord, the cameraman told him cheerfully. They only wanted pictures of the prettiest girls at the ball. I shivered as one called me the prettiest girl as I sashayed femininely, my dress (!) swirling, my stockings feeling soerotic with the soft touches of my dress, entering the ball on a man's arm, being, feeling, that I was a woman. I hadn't expected it to be so crowded, nor to see so many beautiful women, ooo, like me, not to see the women advancing on me, a tiara on a cushion as they approached me.