RANSVESTIA

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“Okay Let me see your face. It'll do for today. I'll pluck your brows out this evening or first thing tomorrow. Come on before he comes after us."

They walked out to where Mark waited impatiently and the three of them were soon riding in the Cadillac toward the Crescent City. Marty's thoughts were on the thrill she was experiencing, instead of how she was being punished. How different it was. Her eyes kept drifting to her nylon clad knees, visible with another three inches of thigh from the hem of the shift she wore. Mark sat on her right and even that wasn't too bad. He kept eyeing her legs also,

Marie drove by the Casino she managed to show him where it was located. "Where would you like to go Mark?” she asked.

"How about the Cartier House for an early dinner??**

"You idiot. You just ate enough to hold you a week. What would you prefer to do for these few hours?”

“To be truthful. I'd like to put you out and drive this doll some- where. But since that's out, let's go by that dump you used to work in and have a few drinks for old times sake.”

Even while Marty was showing a balled up fist. Marie spoke: “All right Mark, we can have a few but you don't want too many if you're going to fly. It isn't good on a load of alcohol.” She turned in the direc- tion of Bourbon St. and the night clubs of the old French Quarter, She had started stripping there at the age of 19 and it held many me- mories good and bad. Now ... eleven years later, she was fixed for life unless something drastic happened.

She found a small parking lot near the old nightclub and they walked to it, chatting about the past, while Marty enjoyed the chance to be out of the spotlight for a while. Her reactions thus far had been good. To be in women's clothes as she was now. wasn't punishment, she de- cided. It was fun.

The place was almost desolate. Except for the manager who remem- bered Marie, and one waitress, it was empty. He fixed them a table in the dark corner away from the door.

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