she wouldn't think of interrupting his moment of She stepped in view for just a second to hand him a bottle of perfume and an immense grin broke out on her face as he swung his hair back in a very feminine gesture and dabbed the scent behind his ear lobes. "Just a few more days and he will be hooked for life," she prayed silently.

He spent the entire day fully dressed up. She loved the sound of his heels clicking against the hardwood floors when he walked. The sight of his slender legs in the tights that her daughter would never wear pleased her more than she could ever put into words. She loved walking behind him and inhaling the fresh scent of the perfume he wore. Terry sensed that she was watching him almost every minute. At first he was very uncomfortable about it. His memory of yesterday combined with an occasional shot of pain from his still swollen rear globe made him quite fearful that she was just looking for some reason to punish him. She had not removed the bullwhip from around her waist and the mere sight of it sent chills up his backbone. It didn't take him long to realize that the more feminine he acted the better she treated him. He tried to walk and talk as female as possible whenever she was near him. She rewarded his efforts by being extremely nice to him. For awhile he even moved his hands with a very limp wrist but when Susan saw him she laughed loudly and told him "You're not a fag! You're a girl."

The week stretched on. Susan began each and every day by making him up just as feminine as she could. She took great pains to continue to bring out the feminine traits that she had already tapped in the boy. Convinced that he had become nonviolent she stopped wearing the bullwhip around her waist. Immediately there was an improvement in his behavior. "I guess the fear of that whip made him act nervously all the time, !! she mused.

Like an artist who is carefully carving a piece of rare stone she did not rush him. But she did make him dress up every day and told him to act as female as he could. As he calmed down more

and more each day she finally asked him, "Would you like me to give you some charm lessons?" "Oh could you, please!" he said in an airy female voice. Thrilled and excited with his reaction to the question she led him into the living room and began the instructions she had wanted to give him for so long.

The first lesson was on the correct methods of sitting down. Patiently she showed him how to smooth the skirt underneath him as he sat, how to cross his legs properly and how to stand up without revealing himself. "If I just go gently he won't resist," she hoped. And she was right. As long as she let him ask all the questions he continued to want to learn more. In just a short time he was shifting his hips back and forth as if he had been doing it all of his life. "Have you had enough for today, dear?" she asked, sensing that he was beginning to tire and not wanting to push him too hard. "Yes, but only if we can continue tomorrow," he answered. She smiled at her prize as joy filled her heart. "Of course, sweets! There will be plenty of time to learn more tomorrow."

Throughout the day she caught him time and again practicing the things that she had shown him. Each time he seemed to look at her and wait for her approval. Often she would praise his diligence and make some minor correction in his posture or movement. He thrived on this attention and would give her his best effort as she watched.

Later in the evening as he sat reading he thought, "I may as well make the best of this attention. Besides, it's kind of fun!" He couldn't wait to slip into his soft nightie and climb into the frilly canopy bed. Just before he fell asleep he again wondered what was happening to him. That morning he at least had had some resistance left but now he was feeling totally out of control. "You're just making the best of it like mom always said to do," he calmed himself. Laying his curl covered head on the dainty pillow, he fell into a restful sleep.

-51-

FO-