-27-

too-tight waist-cinch, and the unaccustomed female shoes. And with every motion he was kept constantly aware of how he looked, from the long hair brushing his face and neck, to the feel of the long satin lounging robe against his flesh. His fingers against the satin felt exciting in a way, but the contrast to his sexual helplessness only made things

worse.

He was downstairs starting his house-maid duties a few minutes later when the doorbell rang. Bob froze in horror, for he could not answer it, but Alice would be furious if he did not. In his drag costume, and with his prick sticking out the front, anyone who saw him would know he was perverted or crazy. But Alice's vengeance for not answering would be worse, he was sure.

The bell kept ringing insistently, as if the caller knew he was there and wouldn't go away, so Bob knew he had to do something. He went to the door, and bracing his foot against it to keep it from swinging open wide, he opened it a few inches and looked out. Immediately the door was flung open by a heavy shove, sending Bob sprawling on his back on the floor, and Alice came in laughing at his alarm and terror.

"I just wanted to check up on you," she giggled lightly, smiling at how ridiculous he looked. "Now get to work, for I may be back again before you expect

me.'

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Actually she did not return until the middle of the afternoon while Bob had been suffering in body and soul for many hours. It seemed to him that wherever he went in the house, there was always some mirror showing him how terrible he looked, how grotesquely feminine. He began to notice that due to the high heels, he was beginning to walk with exaggerated hip movements, and that he was brushing his long hair back with typically feminine movements as he worked. Not only was he conscious of how the tennis balls were pinching his nipples, but also of how his synthetic breasts pressed out excitingly against the satin of his long hostess gown. Maybe he was really becoming effeminate and emasculated.

In preparation for their evening session with the red-headed Joan, Bob was ordered to strip naked and take a shower, during which he was to shave his whole body again so that he was smoothly depilated from his ears down. Alice supervised and would accept nothing less than perfection in this. Then came the time of getting Bob appropriately costumed for the evening, to his continuing impotent rage and horror.

The first item was a gleaming black corsalette, a combination brassiere, waist-cinch, and garterbelt that fitted his torso in its clinging grip. Within the bra-cups, the biting, pinching tennis-balls were again installed even though his nipples were