RANSVESTIA

loaded with sponsors filtered from the large public address speaker in the dim-lit corridor, the same speaker that had carried the laughing, mocking taunts of Sylvia and her two felines that first day.

As I approached the control-room I could see the cute red-head sitting at the console. I moved toward the door with my key ready.

Suddenly, an animal hald hold of me!

A beast with the strength of a gorilla had its arms around me from the back. I grabbed for the hands and then felt the bracelets around the pow- erful wrists. Looking down at the long fingers I saw the glint of the polished fingernails.

Sylvia!

She was crushing my ribs and at the same time I was being helplessly dragged down the corridor like a sack of flour. I tried to yell but my throat was too full of rage.

Suddenly, she pulled me into a room and two of her girls grabbed my arms as the door swung open. “Now, glamour boy,” Sylvia hissed, “so you want to go on the air? Well, we're going to see that you do just that little thing!"

It was useless to struggle. The black-haired girl that held my right arm in a vice-like grip was every bit as strong as Sylvia. And the other brown- ish-haired girl had my left thumb twisted back until my whole left arm was paralyzed from the excruciating bolts of pain.

Two more girls, both raven-haired, came into the room carrying ropes. All of the girls, including Sylvia, were wearing ridiculously high-heeled shoes, with heels at least five inches tall. Their voluptuous figures were tightly-drawn into various kinds of chorus-type, satin leotards, with wide leather belts that crushed their stomachs into hour-glass silhouettes. And from their wasp-waists their hips slanted outward, sensuously, with the line of their curvaceous bodies then falling sharply into the black mesh-net stockings covering the solid legs clear down to the patent-leath- er spike-heels that clicked on the room's hard floor as they began tieing me up like a calf being made rady for slaughter.

"What're you doing?" I cried out, at last.

"You're going to go to work for WOMB, Donna!" Sylvia hissed.

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