"You'll do anything we tell you to

"And

do, anyway, "Doris informed me sternly. we'll let you go when we get bored with aressing you up like a girl. You're almost like a doll for us to play with, a real, live boy-doll who has to do anything we want."

"So Butch was really scared of you

as long as he thought you were a girl?" said Mary laughing. "How did you feel, Joannie, when he discovered your true self, and began to go for you in a big way?"

"It was awful.

At first he thought

I was scared of him because I was a virgin and dit want to be raped," I said.

"Well, in the way he wants you, I suppose you are a virgin, aren't you?" asked "Mayber we ought to give him a chance to fix that. I'll bet he like it."

Doris.

"Oh, no. You can't do anything as awful as that to me." I begged, nearly in tears at the thought of being used and abused so cruelly for the amusement of these vengeful girls.

"We can do anything we want with you," said Mary. "But now it's late, way after midnight, so it's time we got you dressed for the night. Take off all your lovely clothes, Joannie, except your waist-cinch."

Even after having had to do it several times before, it was still terribly humiliating to me to have to strip and expose my hairless body before these dominant girls.

When

I was wearing only the painfully tight fleshcolored band around my miale that gave me an accentuated feminine outline, they handed me the too-tight, flesh-colored, tiny elastic pantie-brief which had encased and constricted

my crotch when I had been forced to do the red-spangled belly-dance at the cook-out. I had to struggle into this, and when it was in place, the pressure on those sensitive tissues between my thighs was extremely uncomfortable, completely emasculating in

appearance.

Next two large and very realistic foam-rubber breasts were securely glued onto my hairless chest, adding further feminine curves to my altered shape. As I glanced into the big mirror, I could almost believe that I was looking at a naked girl, for all my obvious male attributes had been completely hidden before any external costume was put on me. This transformation was a terrible shock to my ego, and I vaguely wondered if I would ever be able to get back to looking and feeling like a man. Since the false breasts, the so-snug waist-cinch, and the tight elastic pantie-brief were all flesh colored, it took more than a casual glance to know that the visible girlish contours were not for real.

At first I did not understand their purpose when my tormentors brought out what I was to wear for outer garments for the night. They were two identical long satin night-gowns in a natural skin tone of pink. They had me put on the first one after turning it inside out so that the sleek sensuous surface was against my skin, seeming to caress me whereever it touched me. The second night-gown was put on me normally right side out, so that the shiny glistening exciting surface was outside to shimmer in the light and please the hands that touched it.

Like all form-fitting garments of this sort, the material was cut on the bias, so that