Gently at first, then with gradually increasing vigor, the woman tugged at the riobbons in such a manner as to swing Leslie back and forth as if he were on a flying trapeze.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Leslie cried in feebl protest, but he found that what was being done to him was not as painful as it was intensely pleasurable. The tugging at his symbol and the swinging back and forth combined to transport him into a paroxysm of pleasure, and just when he was certain that he would lose control of his passions and inundate the delicate sheath, the two women stopped their delightful game and lowered him to the floor.

Miss Staylace led him over to the bed and allowed him to sit there and rest. He was astounded to note that the corset fit so perfectly that he was able to bear the pressure on his sides quite well, in spite of the fact that he had been laced in to the Nth degree.

After the three of them had caught their breath, Miss Staylace suggested that she and Marie continue the task of dressing Leslie.

"After all," she pointed out, "we don't want the poor dear thing to catch a cold or take a chill.

"I

"Certainly not," replied Marie with a little giggle. "Her aunt would be angry at us if her little pet caught cold."

Once more they drew Leslie to his feet and bade him stand still. Marie took a

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pair of gossamer-sheer silk stockings from a box and fitted them up his legs, smoothing them out with her hands until the seams were perfectly straight. Then she affixed them tautly to the frilled suspenders of the corset and topped the job off with a delicious pair of rosette garters.

Then followed layer after layer of petticoats, all of a short length to fill out the skirts of the white afternoon dress he had noticed earlier among the goodies and had lusted after. Looking down at his bodice, he noted that a padded brassiere was not really necessary, for the corset itself pushed his flesh up into a passable bosom. Finally, the little minidress was smoothed into place, and a pair of high-heeled patent slippers were fitted on his stockinged feet.

Marie and Miss Staylace instructed him to turn from side to side in front of the full-length mirrors to view more accurately the result of their labors. As always, the sibilant swishing of the taffeta petticoats against the flesh of his thighs exerted a powerful effect upon his passions, and his masculine symbol seemed about to burst its way out of the little penis petticoat which encased it, a phenomenon which Miss Staylace noticed at once as she kneeled down to adjust his skirts.

Giggling, she lifted the skirts up around his waist so that Marie could see what was going on, and Marie joined in with her merriment while Leslie blushed crimson.

"We shall have to atten to this little person's needs," Marie said, "or it will Page 23