My name is Judy and recently I had an experience that has changed how I dress and think about myself. I'm 26 years old, 5'7" tall and very thin. I never grew the shapely hips or breast my other friends did when we reached puberty. After graduating high school I worked for the phone company and eventually became a lineman. I wear heavy boots and jeans to climb telephone poles. To help in my job I keep my hair cut short in a page boy style and don't grow my nails. Because of the way I dress at work plus my thin stick figure, I quite often get confused as a man while on a job site. My best friend Cathy is always trying to get me to wear more feminine clothes at work and to wear dresses and make-up when I'm not working. Over the years I have gotten lazy and usually wear jeans and mens shirts all the time. I don't remember the last time I did my hair, put on make-up or tried to look pretty.

A couple of weeks ago I was finishing a pole job late in the evening. I was almost 75 miles out of town in the country. By the time I got my gear packed away and headed home it was dark and past 09:00 p.m. On the way back I was driving fast to get home and next thing I knew a police cruiser was behind me with its lights and siren on. I was tired and just didn't feel like dealing with cops so I sped away. Needless to say my small truck was no match for the powerful police car. After a couple of miles I pulled over and stopped. Two huge Sheriffs deputies approached my truck with guns drawn. They were really angry and ordered me out of my truck.

Next thing I knew I was slammed up against the side of my truck as the deputies shouted all kinds of questions at me. They put me in a frisk position and told me to spread my legs. Naturally being a woman I certainly didn't comply with them. The deputies just figured I was being difficult and proceeded to spread my legs for me and do a complete frisk. The deputy behind me tossed my lineman helmet off my head onto the ground and started squeezing my arms and shoulders hard, looking for weapons or contraband. When he moved to my chest I started to resist and it took both of the deputies to hold me. In the struggle my mans plaid shirt became ripped. The deputy patted down my chest and felt my small boyish breast. When he was finished the other deputy started frisking me at my boots tops and worked his way up my left leg squeezing tightly. When he got to my crotch he gave a hard squeeze and laughed to the other deputy about me not having no weapons or anything. Then he checked my right leg. They handcuffed me behind my back and turned my around to face them.

During the initial struggle my shirt had become torn and now it was wide open with my chest completely exposed to the men. They demanded to know who I was and when I told them my name was Judy, they didn't believe me. One deputy said I was dressed like a man and looked like a man. He said this as he stared directly at my small breast and tiny nipples. The other deputy said I was probally one of those city fag cross dressers pretending to be a woman. They said that was illegal and they would arrest me for that also. By now I was almost in tears and told them I could prove who I was by calling a friend. The deputy said they could prove who I was without calling anyone.