my whole pelvis and it felt as if flames were licking hungrily at every surface.

over.

Finally they finished but that did not mean that this part of my ordeal was I was still forced to hold my bent-over pose while my tormentors used their hands and eyes. to inspect the results of their punishment. They giggled at how red the whole area was and the snickered with pleasure at how hot my exposed flesh felt to the touch.

In preparation for my next transvestite costume, my ultra-tight waist-cinch was now removed, which meant that the cruel bondage on my masculine equipment also came off. When the rope holding my hands up and back was released, the girls took sadistic pleasure in fondling my maleness, making me respond to these intimate caresses but frustrating any relief for me in that department.

Now I was handed a small, flesh-colored, elastic pantie-brief and told to put it on. The garment was so tiny and the rubberized stretchability so strong that I had a difficult time dragging it up my legs and settling it about my loins. My genitals were stringently compressed and hauled down between my thighs. This was very uncomfortable for me as you can imagine, and insured that there would be no revealing bulge in the front of whatever exterior garment I would be wearing. High-heeled sandals were put on my feet and securely laced up around my ankles and calves so that there could be no chance of my being able to take them off. All this time I could feel my spanked bottom glowing hotly and pinkly as a symbol of helplessness in the power of these angry girls.

To cover the lower half of my body

they gave me some low-waisted, hip-hugger denim dungarees to wear. Again it was struggle to get them on and buttoned up, for they were a size to fit a much smaller girl that I was masquerading as. These jeans clung to my hips and thighs as if they had been painted on me, and the swelling of my spanked seat filled them very tightly.

The upper half of my body, over the exaggeratedly padded brassiere, was now adorned with a shortie blouse of white satin. This expotic garment had a stand-up collar that encircled my neck, and a two-inch band that encircled my chest just below my bra. It buttoned down the back so that the front of my upper torso was a facade of gleaming satin with the twin mountains of my ersatz Bebreasts jutting out proudly from it. tween the bottom of the blouse and the waistband of my hip-hugger slacks was a broad expanse of bare flesh, including my belly-button and my hairless tummy. The blouse had long full sleeves with wide buttoned cuffs, to hide the essentially masculine shape of my arms.

After repairing my cosmetic make-up and re-arranging my hair into an up-swept effect that fully exposed my ears, the girls brought out the ear-rings I was to wear for this next stage of my transvestite ordeal. They were huge, with bright red facetted glass prisms bigger than an olive dangling When these from chains about an inch long. were screwed painfully tight onto the lobes of my ears, I was not only aware of the pain of having that sensitive flesh crushed, but the weight of the heavy ear-rings kept a constant drag on my lobes that hurt a lot.

I immediately discovered that each slightest movement of my head sent these glass pendants flying around wildly, glinting