Bosom Bondage Buddies
by Brandy Dewinter


Chapter 1 - The Challenge

	"We need to lose some weight," my wife Kelly said as she poked
me in my over-inflated spare tire.

	"Me more than you," I agreed, "but you're right.  If I don't
lose some weight, I'm headed for heart attack, or diabetes like my
father.  We've tried though, and nothing seems to work."

	We had had this conversation before, both of us were cursed
with an endomorph body, short and highly efficient at storing fat.
About the only advantage that we could imagine for our body type was
that we would be the last ones to starve to death if ever shipwrecked
on a deserted island.  In all other aspects we were fighting a
constant battle against fat.  Relative to the other members of our
respective families we had done pretty well in overcoming our genetic
disposition, but neither of us were satisfied.  My wife is a petite
5'3", or would be, except at her weight it would be more accurate to
describe her as "cherubic" than petite.  For myself, at 5"8" I was
fairly short for a guy and the pounds I carried included entirely too
much fat, even though there were muscles in there somewhere, too.  She
is blonde, with eyes such a pale blue they seem like sunlit ice, while
I have dark brown hair and midnight eyes as far to the other end of
the spectrum as possible and still be blue.

	"Do you have any new ideas, or were you just stating the
obvious?" I asked.

	"We need a new, more effective incentive," she declared.
"Long term threats like heart attacks twenty years down the road don't
get the job done.  We need to set positive, short-term objectives."

	"Okay, Okay, I've heard this speech before.  Do you have any
specific ideas?"

	"I already thought about that.  Since you don't mind wearing
pantyhose, I think we should encourage your feminine side," she
offered with laughing eyes.

	I tried to hide my blush, probably not too successfully.  I
had started wearing pantyhose for protection while playing
racquetball.  My usual partner and I were more enthusiastic than
skilled and racquetballs tended to fly everywhere, with great speed if
not great accuracy.  As a result, we ended up with welts on our legs
that made the effectiveness of rubber hose interrogation painfully
obvious, yet cumbersome sweat pants interfered too much, as well as
being hot.  When I complained about the bruises my wife suggested I
get some men's exercise tights and wear light support pantyhose under
them.  These had really helped to protect my legs and I had discovered
that the feel of the pantyhose was so interesting that I had begun to
wear them at other times as well.  I had always known about my latent
transvestite tendencies but had been afraid to indulge them openly,
even around the house.  However, with my wife's encouragement at least
pantyhose had become acceptable.

	Now she was offering to extend the limits of acceptable
cross-dressing, and I had to tightly control my urge to seem too
enthusiastic.  "What do you mean?" I asked.

	"For your incentive, if you can lose ten pounds, and keep it
off for a full week, let's get you a full outfit of ladies underwear.
In fact, let's get you three.  One set will be a bra and panties, with
garter belt and stockings.  One set will be a tight, lace-up corset,
and one set will be a nightgown, with peignoir.  I thing you would
look darling in ladies lingerie," she giggled.

	"What makes you think I would want to wear women's clothes?" I
inquired breathlessly, trying not to show how excited I was getting.

	"Oh come on, Ran, I've known you wanted to wear women's
clothes since before we got married.  You're entirely too
knowledgeable about ladies fashions and I've seen you fondling my
underwear when you help with the laundry.  I think it's wonderful.
I've always heard that men who are in touch with their feminine side
are much better lovers.  Besides, that bulge you're trying to hide
gives you away!"

	At this I blushed openly, surprised at how well she had
identified an interest I thought was secret.  Clearly, she was even
more observant, and tolerant, than I had known.  "I can't deny that
the idea is intriguing.  It certainly would provide an incentive for
me.  What about you?  What's your incentive?"

	"Pick something," she said.  "Show me that you have been
paying attention to my desires as well as I've been tuning in on
yours."

	"That's a challenge," I laughed.  I thought for a moment and
said, "Okay, here's the deal.  If you lose ten pounds and keep it off
for a whole week, we will also buy you three new sets of lingerie.
We'll get matching outfits except for color and size.  In addition,
we'll get you a set of handcuffs."

	Now it was her turn to blush.  "For me to wear, or for me to
use?" she asked, clearly focused on the handcuffs.

	"That'll be up to you," I responded.  "I've always known you
were fascinated by control.  This'll be your chance to bring your
desires out into the open, just like my desire for ladies clothes.  We
can discover if you like being mistress, or slave."

	She looked at me tentatively.  "I'm not sure I like that," she
said.  "Why would I want to hurt you, or have you hurt me?"

	"Bondage and discipline are not about pain," I replied.
"Bondage is about trust, and responsibility.  Bondage and pain are
like straight and gay sex.  Some like both, but many people like one
and find the other uninteresting, even distasteful."

	"Don't worry about it," I continued.  "We have to lose the
weight first, anyway.  Is that a good enough incentive for you?"

	"Sure, if you want me to handcuff you, I think it could be
fun."

	I could see I would have to work on her about the idea.  It
was clear from the way she caught her breath when I captured her arms
while kissing or making love that she was excited by the restriction
on her movement.  She also had often grasped the headboard of our bed,
as though her arms were forced above her head.  However, in her own
mind I expected she envisioned herself as mistress.  She tended to be
a "take charge" kind of woman, which had caused us some major
arguments when we first got married.  We had eventually worked things
out, but I knew she was remembering those arguments and that she
thought her excitement was at the chance to be in charge.  I though I
knew her better, but time would tell.

	"So, have you worked out any further details?" I asked.

	"Yes," she replied, "it will work like this.  We'll go to the
exercise club in the morning and weigh on their scales.  That's our
baseline.  Once we make our goal, we get the prize.  However, if we
gain the weight back, our prize goes away as well.  That okay with
you?"

	"Uh huh.  Now let me see," I mused, "where did I put my heavy
boots, sweats, winter underwear, and . . . "

	"No fair," she laughed, "whatever you wear on the first day is
what you have to wear for all weighings."

	"Oh, well, you can't blame a guy for trying," I grinned.



Chapter 2 - The Baseline



	The next morning, we got up before dawn in order to get in
some exercise before we had to leave for work.  Even though I was not
playing racquetball I put on my pantyhose and exercise stretch pants
under a tee-shirt.  Kelly put on leggings and a leotard, then added an
oversize tee-shirt herself.

	"When you lose a little weight, I'm determined to convince you
to lose the tee-shirt.  You look better in your leotard.  Show off a
little!" I teased.

	"Not yet, but maybe later.  Besides, you're wearing a loose
tee-shirt, too."

	"I don't have the shape to show off, like you do."

	"Not yet," she repeated with a chuckle, "but when we get you
in that corset, we may have to get you a leotard, too."

	My response to that comment, even with the pantyhose, showed
clearly through my tight pants, provoking a pointing finger and
another laugh from my tormentor.

	"Maybe we should get a different kind of exercise this
morning," I growled in mock anger as I grabbed at her.

	"Nope," she danced away, "we have to weigh-in this morning."

	At the club, we watched each other weigh-in on the new
electronic scale.  My weight stabilized at 172.6 pounds, and hers at
141.2.  Both of us shook our heads.

	"This better work," I said.  "We can't keep drifting up like
this.  Let's set the baseline at exactly 170 for me and 140 for you.
That will be easier to remember."

	"Okay," she said, "you're on."

	We proceeded to the stairmasters where as usual I set a faster
pace than she did.  Kelly's place of business was a lot closer to our
house than mine and I needed to get done so that I could get on the
road sooner.  Then I moved on to the circuit of exercise machines,
finishing up with a few laps of the indoor track.  By that time she
was into the machines herself, but far from through.

	"See you at the house," I called, provoking only an answering
nod as she strained against the resistance of the machine.

	By the time she got home, I had already showered and shaved
and was ready to leave.  I gave her a quick kiss, and reached up under
her tee-shirt to caress her softly-swelling curves.  "Want to make me
late for work?" I asked with a lover's leer.

	"Oh go on.  You have a one-track mind," she pretended to snap,
but her smile took all the heat away from her words.  "Don't get my
sweat against your suit.  I'll see you tonight."

	"Promises, promises," I laughed as I went out the door.



Chapter 3 - Highlights In The Dark



	That evening I got home just before she did and was changing
clothes when she came in.  I had worn suntan-colored pantyhose under
my suit that day and was still wearing them as I hung up my clothes.

	"So, kinda getting into this, huh?" she chuckled.

	"You know I sometimes wear pantyhose under my suit, when I
expect to be on my feet a lot," I replied.

	"Any excuse is a good one, if it turns you on," she teased.
"Leave them on, get some shorts, and we'll go for a walk."

	Once again, she had pushed a hot button with me.  The thought
of going public in women's clothes was at once tremendously exciting,
and frightening.  My answering blush and bulge were clear signs her
barb had struck home.

	"Not in public!" I exclaimed.

	"Leave them on anyway," she said, "and get some shorts."

	"Your legs look good in them, though those dark hairs need to
go," she continued relentlessly.  "Maybe we'll go walking after dark."

	By this time she had removed her skirt and started to rub her
shimmering pantyhose against mine.  The feel of the smooth materials
sliding together brought my erection to the painful state, a fact she
was quick to notice.  She ground her mound up against my bulge, and
laughed, stroking me lightly with her long fingers.

	"I think I am going to enjoy this challenge!" she laughed.

	Once again I grabbed at her, growling about a real challenge.
And once again she danced away.

	"Not while you have your pantyhose on," she called from the
closet where she started hanging up her clothes.  "And don't you dare
remove them.  I want to see your smooth, shiny legs all evening."

	I dug out the shortest exercise shorts I had and drew them on
over my slick legs.  Thinking she was still in the closet, I posed in
front of the mirror, turning to see how my legs looked from behind.
She walked in on this and started laughing again, though at least she
said nothing.  Maybe she was laughing too hard.

	I grinned sheepishly, and reached for a sport shirt.  "Okay, I
already admitted the idea turns me on.  You could at least be a little
sympathetic."

	Still laughing, she came to me and gave me a deep, hot kiss.
"Actually," she said, "the idea turns me on, too.  You know I married
you so I could tease you, though."

	"Really?" I replied.  "I thought you married me for my money,"
I laughed at our old joke.  My mother had been concerned that this had
been the case, though Kelly had a professional job and her salary
wasn't much different than my own income.  Mothers-in-law are like
that, I suppose.

	"Well, that too," she responded, giggling.

	"What do you want for supper?" she asked.

	"Whatever you want, not too much though.  Cutting back on
supper is probably the most effective thing we could do."

	"Right," she agreed, "how about just a salad?"  She went off
to fix it while I set the table.

	As we were cleaning up after supper, she again brought up the
idea of a walk.  "Go get your shoes on, we need a little exercise.
It's dark out, or nearly so."

	I looked out at the setting sun, and thought about whether I
could get away with it.

	"Come on," she continued, "suntan pantyhose match your arms
better than your bare legs do.  No one will know."

	I looked down at the highlights shimmering on my shiny legs,
and decided that maybe, if I didn't get too close to anyone else, it
might just look like a sheen of sweat.

	"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath, "let's do it."

	Our neighborhood is strictly residential, without much through
traffic.  As we walked along, no one seemed to pay any particular
attention.  After a while it became dark and the streetlights came on.
Then I noticed that a single, strong light source like a streetlight
really brought out the highlights on my legs.  It was fascinating to
see the shine flow over my legs as we walked.  Realizing what I was
staring at, Kelly brushed her pantyhose up against mine.

	"Like that, do you?" she grinned.

	My blush was the only answer.

	"Let's set an intermediate milestone," she said.  "When you
lose 5 pounds for a week, you shave your legs."

	"No," she contradicted herself with a twinkle in her laughing
eyes, "even better, when you lose 5 pounds, I'll shave your legs."

	I tried to cover my embarrassment with gruffness.  "You're
getting entirely too good at pushing my buttons," I said.  "If you
keep me hard for too long, I may have to give you what you're asking
for."

	"Promises, promises," she teased.

	This time when I grabbed for her, I snagged her wrist, and
pulled her to me.  Capturing her other wrist, I wrapped my arms around
her which pinned her arms behind her back as though they were bound.
I leaned over her, bowing her back over our interlinked arms.  My hot
mouth smothered her full lips, and my tongue rammed into her, forcing
her to submit to my passion.  She gasped with her own flooding passion
as her body responded to my touch.

	Then I released her, and stood there smiling as she tried to
catch her breath.

	"Two can play the game of excitement," I grinned.  "You may be
able to get me so hard I have to walk bent over, but your nipples show
that your body wants me just as much as I want you."

	Smiling with bubbling heat behind her long lashes, she asked,
"How much longer do you want to walk?"

	I smiled, myself, with the fresh confirmation of her basic
nature.  She did indeed like to be captured and helplessly slave to
her own passion.  I would have to build on that.  On the other hand,
her current invitation was clear, and I was nobody's fool.

	"Only about as long as it takes to get back to the house.
Unless you think you can run that far."

	"I can outlast you any day," she challenged, and set off
running toward the house.

	I easily caught up to her, which was clearly her intention.
We both knew it was too far to the house to sprint.  However, it was
far enough that setting the correct pace was an important decision.  I
resolved to keep up with her whatever it took.  The challenge of the
physical exertion quickly resolved the bulge in my pants and I was
able to get into an easier stride.  Soon we were approaching the
house, and she began to sprint.  At this point, my faster pace in the
morning exercises paid off, or maybe I just had a greater incentive,
and I was able to pass her and reach the house first.

	Breathing heavily, and laughing like children, we entered the
house.  Immediately, I caught her hands again and repeated my fierce,
controlling kiss.

	"Now, where were we?" I asked with a smirk.

	"You seem to have remembered well enough," she panted.

	I captured both of her wrists in one hand, and used the other
to lightly stroke one of her full breasts.  Under my caress, her
nipple pushed forward through the thin material of her shirt.  I
pulled her tee-shirt up over her head and then down her arms, where it
added to the confinement she was experiencing.  With each further step
of control, her breathing would catch for a second, then resume,
hotter and more intense.  Now I lowered my lips to her hard nipple,
sucking on it, then washing it with my tongue.

	All the while my hold on her arms forced her back to arch into
my hand, my lips, my tongue.  Her breathing became rougher, gasping,
panting.

	"Let me catch my breath," she moaned.  "I'm going to pass out
if you keep this up."

	"Promises, promises," I teased, lightly blowing on her nipple,
which glistened from the moisture of the tongue bath I had just given
it.

	Without releasing my hold on her wrists, I began to work her
shorts and pantyhose down off her legs.  Soon they were in a puddle at
her ankles, and she was effectively naked before me, with only her
tee-shirt around her arms.  Again I leaned over her and kissed her,
forcing my pantyhose-clad leg between her legs, and rubbing the slick
material against her.  Her breathing was still out of control, rasping
in her throat, catching for long seconds as shudders passed through
her quivering body.

	I lifted her legs in my free hand and carried her into the
bedroom with her captured arms still held in my other hand.  Laying
her on the bed, I lifted her legs over my head and buried my face
between her thighs.  Her lower lips were glistening with her own
moisture, and I blew lightly on them, which rewarded me with her
shivers.  Her moisture showed that she was ready for me and I could
have taken her right then with her enthusiastic participation and
consent.  But tonight was as much for training as for pleasure and I
intended to build within her body a memory of the benefits of
surrender.  Instead of undressing myself, I began to lick softly at
her jewel, washing it with slow, gentle strokes of my tongue.  With
each touch, she moaned again, her chest heaving with the need to
breathe, and at the same time the need to respond to my tongue.

	I probed my tongue deeply within her, lapping at her nectar.
Then I replaced my tongue with my lips, and began to suck on her
pleasure nub.  This step was too much, and she exploded in
uncontrollable spasms of pleasure, arching over her held arms, lifting
her hips to my lips, to the ceiling, to the sky above with her
muscle-straining pulsations.  I gently resumed my washing of her jewel
until her shudders subsided.  Then I released her arms and straddled
her waist.  I took her left arm and began to massage it, working out
any residual muscle tension.  Then I moved up to her shoulder, her
neck, and repeated the massage on the other side.  Throughout this
slow and loving task, Kelly lay as though unconscious, limp with the
aftereffects of her exertion.

	I worked down her body, clinically, without attempt to revive
her passion.  Passing by her waist, I firmly massaged her legs to
ensure that they did not cramp up after our run and the subsequent
exercise.  Finally I completed with her feet, and still she had said
nothing, nor hardly moved.  Her panting was subsiding as I finished,
but she still had a small, soft smile on her lips, and was nearly
asleep.  I covered her with a comforter, and moved off the bed.

	"Where are you going?" she asked languidly.

	"Don't worry about it, just relax," I said.

	I went to the kitchen to get some wine we had chilling and
prepared a couple of glasses.  Returning to the bedroom, I slid one
pantyhose-clad leg smoothly under her head as a pillow and offered the
wine to her lips.  She drank greedily, dried out from her heavy
breathing, then leaned back into my leg.

	"That was incredible," she whispered.  "I don't know whether
to tease you again or not.  I might not survive another experience
like that."

	"Oh, I expect you would," I said with a smile.

	"What about you?" she asked.  "This started with your
excitement at wearing pantyhose in public.  How are you doing?"

	"Don't worry about me, m'love, I'm sure you'll figure out some
way to make it up to me, someday."

	"You'll spoil me rotten," she sighed.

	My reward for this "sacrifice" was a warm smile, and a snuggle
against my leg.  I was satisfied.  I had taken total control and given
her pleasure without requiring action on her part, except to accept my
love and to allow her body to respond.  This is the essence of the
master/slave relationship.  One surrenders control, one exercises it.
Her languid acceptance, even belief that I was spoiling her by making
her a slave would form the basis for ever more control.  Her nature
was as I had thought, now my problem was to lead her to understand it
as well.  Finally she began to stir.

	"I can't lay like this all night.  We need to get ready for
bed.  Are you going to sleep in your pantyhose as well?" she asked.

	"No, I'm in no hurry.  But if you want, we can get ready to go
to sleep."

	As she went into the bathroom to prepare for bed, I slowly
stripped off my clothes.  Removing the smooth tension of the pantyhose
from my legs was sharply disappointing and I affirmed in my own mind
that we each had found effective incentives to lose weight, though
Kelly had not begun to realize the extent of the changes coming in her
life.  Perhaps I had not either.



Chapter 4 - First Progress



	The next morning, we went to the club again and weighed.  Due
to the light supper and good exercise, Kelly had lost over a pound and
I had lost almost as much.  We both resolved to remember that weight
could fluctuate by more than that due to many minor factors, but it
was encouraging nonetheless.  We completed our morning workout regimen
and went on through the day.  That evening again found us dining on a
light supper of soup and a salad.  Wearing pantyhose had become the
norm for me, and after supper we again took a walk.  This evening
Kelly held back on the teasing, both because we had already laughed
about our routine and because we had moved to a different level in our
relationship and she was enjoying the comfortable companionship.
Nonetheless, we walked vigorously, and worked up a good warmth in our
legs when we finally returned to home.

	"Let me give you a leg rubdown," I said.  "I don't want those
gorgeous legs to knot up with cramps."

	"Sold!" she cried happily, and we went to the bedroom again.

	This night, I started working on her back and arms before
going to her legs.  I had her stretch her arms out over her head and
grab the headboard, then smoothly pulled on her legs to stretch her
whole body.

	"This is like the gravity boots that people used to use, but
you don't have all the blood rush to your head," I told her.

	After pulling on her legs together, I massaged her back.  Then
I moved back to her legs and spread them, pulling on one leg at a
time.

	"Depending on which muscles need it most, it may be best to
keep your legs and arms together, or spread them.  It's harder to get
even tension when your arms and legs are spread, though.  I may need
to work something out," I explained as I worked on each leg.

	After a few minutes, I had Kelly roll over, and repeated the
process with her on her back.  This time I increased the tension until
she was almost lifted off the bed.  She could feel her back and
shoulders stretching.

	"Mmmm, that feels good," she murmured.

	Once all her muscles had been stretched and massaged, we went
back into the other room to take care of mundane chores.  This became
our routine for the next few days.  Each day we weighed again.  I
quickly made up the advantage she had started with, and was soon
closing in on 165 pounds, for a net 5 pounds saving relative to our
baseline.  Kelly had stalled out at 136, plus or minus a little, and
was getting frustrated.

	"Why doesn't my weight keep dropping like it did in the
beginning?" she complained one evening.  "We're still exercising, and
eating carefully."

	"Sometimes it just happens.  Your body is probably building
muscle right now to accommodate our new routine.  After you're back in
balance, your weight will drop."

	"By the way," I continued, "I got your incentive award for
losing 5 pounds the other day.  As soon as you make the weight, I'll
show it to you."

	"Show me now," she exclaimed, "I can't wait!"

	"Nope," I grinned, "it's going to be a surprise."

	"What kind of incentive is that?" she grumbled.

	"If it works, a pretty good one," I laughed.

	The next morning, when I stepped on the electronic scale, I
caught my breath.  Kelly looked to see what had interested me, and
noticed the reading on the scale, 164.7 pounds.

	"That makes your 5 pound incentive goal," she whispered with a
grin, "tonight we shave your legs."

	I blushed to my hair roots, and turned around to see if anyone
was listening.  Shaving my legs seemed like a point of no return.
However embarrassing it might have been, I could explain pantyhose for
the circulation benefits, but shaving my legs would be pretty
unambiguous.  Yet it excited me tremendously as well.  This step would
have a major effect on how good my legs would look.

	"But what about walking in the evening?" I asked.  "If I shave
my legs, people will be able to tell."

	"Too bad," she giggled.  "That was the deal, and now we are
going through with it."

	Then Kelly stepped on the scale, and showed 135.3 pounds.

	"Damn," she said.  "I didn't make mine."

	"Not quite," I admitted, "but you did make progress, that is
the lowest you've shown, yet.  You'll probably make it tomorrow.
Tonight is my incentive.  Tomorrow, hopefully, is yours."

	We completed the rest of our workout and went on to work.  The
day dragged by with glacial slowness.  All I could think about was
what would happen that evening.  At the end of the day I rushed home
but Kelly was not there, yet.  I had undressed down to my pantyhose
and was holding my shorts, wondering if I should put them on when she
walked in.

	"What are you holding those for?" she asked with a chuckle.
"You're going into the bathtub as soon as we get the water warm.
Strip!"

	While she was running the bathwater, I peeled down my
pantyhose and took off my underwear.  In the bathroom, she had the tub
steaming with hot water and was pouring in bath oil beads.

	"What are those for," I asked.

	"If we just start shaving on your legs," she explained, "we're
likely to nick you up pretty badly.  The bath oil with soften your
skin."

	I gingerly entered the water.  Kelly always did like it hotter
than I preferred, but soon I was sitting in the tub.

	"Lean back," she ordered, "you need to soak clear up to your
neck."

	"Wait a minute," I protested.  "I thought we were just going
to do my legs."

	"Nope," she giggled, "I decided that your are going to be
hairless as a baby below your neck.  Now just lean back.  This is my
incentive for you, and we'll do it my way."

	Leaning back into the hot water, I had to admit it felt
wonderful.  However, making such a commitment to looking feminine was
resulting in an undeniable sign of excitement.

	"Goodness, what is this?" Kelly laughed.  "Do we have a
submarine in here?  Certainly we have a snorkel breaking the surface."

	I had to laugh as well.  It was clear that her incentive was
well tuned to my desires.

	Kelly kneaded the bath oil into my legs for a few minutes,
then said, "It's time, lift one leg out of the water."

	When I hesitated she giggled and grabbed my left ankle,
extending my leg straight up.  She took a handful of shaving cream and
slowly spread it all over my leg down to the waterline.  She started
her razor gliding along my thigh, baring a strip of clean, smooth skin
below the shaving cream.  With each stroke, more and more of my leg
was exposed, each section smooth, shiny, and glistening.

Soon she finished on my thigh and moved to my knee, carefully
following the more complicated contours.  My lower leg then appeared
from beneath the shaving cream.

	"Goodness, you even have hairy toes, we can't have that!" she
chuckled.

	Kelly spread a little cream on each of my toes, then stripped
hair and cream off to complete my first leg.  Lowering my leg back
into the water and bath oil, she massaged the skin to soft smoothness.
The process was repeated on my right leg, and I thought I might be
finished.  I had been lying back with the water to my neck, and as I
rose to leave the water, Kelly remembered (if she had ever forgotten)
the hair in my chest.  Pushing me back against the head of the tub,
though with my chest out of the water, she reached for some more
shaving cream.  Soon my chest was lathered with cream and she began to
glide the razor downward from my neck.  Just as with my legs, each
stroke revealed a strip of smooth skin without the usual mat of curly
hair.

	As she moved outward from a centerline stripe, I said. "Be
careful.  They don't stand out like yours, but I would just as soon
not lose my nipples, anyway."

	Kelly laughed, but did slow her pace and work her way
carefully across the rest of my chest.  When it was gleaming and
smooth, she had me raise my arms and quickly removed the hair found
there, also.

	"That should about do it," she smiled.  "Stand up."

	When I rose from the water, she giggled gleefully.

	"Not quite done, I see," she said.  "Have you ever noticed
that you have a very hairy ass?"

	"No," I laughed, " I've never turned around to see."

	"Well," she said, " you do.  Bend over and spread 'em."

	At her abrupt command, I looked at her quizzically.  "What do
you intend to do?"

	"Finish the job, of course," she replied.  "I can see that I
need to shave a bit higher on you than I do on me.  I'm going to trim
you down to a bikini shave so you won't show hair when you get your
new underwear."

	Suiting her actions to her words, Kelly quickly scraped off
the hair which had been below the tub waterline, turning me around as
required to get all sides.  She left only a small patch of hair that
would be hidden by the skimpiest of bikinis, and even this she trimmed
short with scissors.

	"Ta Daa!" she exclaimed.

	Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I gasped at the long,
leaner-looking legs I never knew I had.

	"Go put on your pantyhose," she directed, as excited as I was
by the transformation.

	My pantyhose slid up over my shiny, oiled legs more smoothly
than ever before.  Quickly I put on my shorts, and looked at my legs
in the mirror.  It was breathtaking.  My legs had always looked better
in pantyhose than without, but now!  They appeared inches longer,
thinner, and so shiny without the dark curls of smashed hair under the
pantyhose.  Why didn't all men shave their legs?  How could women
stand for men to be so coarse and bristly?  With no more trouble than
women put up with all the time, men could add so much to their
appearance!  I turned to Kelly with a grin, and noticed a pensive look
on her face.

	"What's the matter, beautiful?  Don't you like them?" I
queried.

	Hesitantly, Kelly replied, "Sure, they look . . . great."

	Catching on, I said, "You're not jealous, are you?"

	Blushing, she said nothing, but I knew that my insight had
been correct.

	"Look, beautiful," I said.  "My legs are probably my best
feature.  I'm a little taller than you and my body doesn't store much
fat in my legs.  Together these add up to a pretty nice package, if I
do say so myself.  Let me have one area of at least competitively good
looks.  In all other features, there's no comparison."

	Smiling, she nodded, still somewhat shocked by how effective
the transformation had been.

"Let's go," she said.

	"Where?"

	"Out for our walk, of course," she replied.

	"Wait a minute," I resisted.  "We're early, it's still light
out.  We haven't even eaten, yet."

	"Ooh," she grinned, "even better.  Let's go out to dinner!"

	"No way," I replied, fascinated and frightened at the same
time.  "Not unless I put on jeans."

	"Nope," she insisted.  "How about a compromise?  We go to a
drive-through somewhere, but you have to wear your shorts."

	After a moment, I nodded acceptance, blushing once again at
the ever-increasing excitement from the ever-increasing risks I was
taking.  As I walked out to the car, in broad daylight, with shaved
legs, pantyhose, and shorts, I reflected on how far we both had come
in such a short time, and we were losing weight, too.

	The next day at the club, when we weighed, I was down another
half a pound, which we laughingly whispered to each other must be due
to the lost hair.  On this day, however, Kelly also made her 5 pound
goal.

	She quickly asked me, "Now, tell me what you got for my
incentive prize."

	"Sorry," I replied, not really sorry at all, "not until we get
home tonight."

	That day I am sure her anticipation was every bit as great as
mine had been the day before.  For once, she was home before me and
met me at the door.

	"Okay, NOW will you tell me what you got for me?"

	"No," I refused again, "not until after our walk.  What's for
dinner?"

	She pretended to be angry at my delaying tactics, but
recognized the game of anticipation was part of the plan I had for
whatever would happen.  We changed clothes, revealing again my smooth
and hairless legs in their shimmery pantyhose, then quickly prepared
and ate our now-typical light supper.  After cleaning up we worked on
other chores until the sun was well down toward the horizon.

	Kelly came to me and said, "Okay, time for our walk."

	Though the sun was still high enough to provide a lot of
light, my tolerance for risk was increasing and I agreed.  We left the
house and began our brisk walk around the area.  There were still some
of our neighbors out, though none we knew so well that we had to stop
and talk, so we waved from a distance and proceeded.  I wondered how
many of these neighbors were trying to figure out what was different
about me.  None showed any signs of clear suspicion of my unusual
attire but some did seem to look up for a longer time than ordinary
neighborliness would indicate.

	When we completed our normal circuit we returned to the house,
warm and loose from the exercise.  Kelly kept glancing at me,
obviously curious, and wanting me to show her the prize.  However, she
had also clearly decided to demonstrate that she could wait as long as
I could, so she didn't say anything.

	I drew her into the bedroom for her usual after-workout
rubdown.  When I had finished on her back, she turned over and grabbed
the headboard so that I could stretch her.  At this point I reached
into one of our drawers, and pulled out a length of silk scarf.

	"Here," I said, "Thread this through the eyebolt I put at the
base of the headboard.  Then arrange it so you can get a good hold on
it."

	"Is this scarf all I get for making my first weight goal?" she
frowned.

	"It's part of it, but there's more."

	I then pulled out two wide leather ankle restraints with rings
set on each cuff.

	"Now," I said, "put on these ankle bands."

	I carefully said 'bands', not cuffs or restraints, or
manacles.  I didn't want her to associate the ankle cuffs with bondage
too soon, but that is exactly what was in store for Kelly tonight.  By
leaving her hands untied and letting her put the ankle restraints on
herself, I wanted her to think that she was able to stop at any point,
which was indeed the case . . . for now.  She fumbled with the
fastenings for a few minutes but soon had the bands around her ankles.
I checked them for tightness to make sure they would not slide off,
then had her lie back on the bed and grab the silk scarf.

	"You might want to wrap it around your wrists, so you can get
a good hold.  I'm going to be tugging on your legs in a minute."

	With that, I brought out the remaining items in her current
incentive package, two bungee cords.  These were ordinary, just
stretch cords with hooks on each end.  I looped one around the corner
post of our bed, and then reached for her leg.

	"What are you doing?" she asked.

	"What does it look like I'm doing?" I chided her.  "I told you
that it was hard to keep even tension on your legs when they're
spread, and that I would work on a better answer.  This is it.  The
bungees will keep a steady pull on your legs while I finish your
massage."

	By this time I had fastened the hooks on the first bungee cord
to the rings on her ankle cuff.  The tension caused her hips to roll
toward the fastened leg, and she started to let the scarf slide
through her fingers.

	"Hold on to the scarf," I directed.  "We need to keep a fair
bit of tension in order to get the best benefit."

	I quickly fastened her other leg to the corresponding bedpost,
bringing her back into a balanced arrangement.  Then I proceeded to
massage her legs, all the while letting the reasonably gentle but
steady tension pull out the kinks in her muscles.  As I continued, she
began to relax and the scarf started to slip again.  She grabbed at it
and tried to hold tighter, but her hands were clearly getting tired.

	"Sorry," she murmured, "it feels heavenly, but I just can't
hold on any longer."

	"Hmm, that's too bad," I consoled her.  "I haven't even gotten
to your arms, yet.  I guess I'll have to come up with something to
help you hold on as well."

	As she let the scarf slip away, I continued her massage up her
body to her waist, and then to her arms.  As I moved up to massage her
neck, I straddled her waist with my pantyhose-clad legs.  Once I had
finished, I leaned forward and gently kissed her.  Her arms came up
around me, and we held each other for a few minutes.  Her legs were
not under much tension since she had slid down the bed, but they were
still as restricted as though they were held by a spreader bar.  Soon,
I thought to myself, I will get her arms bound as well.

	The next morning as we dressed to go to the club I noticed
that my pantyhose were dragging on the stubble that had grown out on
my legs.  Kelly noticed this as well and informed me that I would
henceforth have to shave myself.

	"I may help with some of those 'hard-to-reach' areas though,"
she said with a twinkle in her laughing eyes.



Chapter 5 - Satin Shivers



	Over the course of the next week we both showed an overall
downward trend, though there were mornings when we showed no progress
or even a bit of springback.  Soon (though not soon enough, we felt)
we were closing in on our 10 pound goal.  Kelly had ordered several
lingerie catalogs, some from the widely-recognized Frederick's of
Hollywood and Victoria's Secrets, some from obscure special-interest
catalogs with many unusual items.  In anticipation of meeting our
incentive threshold, we discussed what we would get.  Looking through
the lingerie catalogs, imagining myself in these feminine outfits,
always excited me.  Kelly purposely kept me breathlessly attentive by
bringing up question after question on material, style, and color.

	"What do you think about white for me?" I asked.

	"Well," she said doubtfully, "I'm not too sure.  You tan
pretty well, and white would make your skin look awfully dark."

	"You tan just about as well, yourself," I countered, "and you
look terrific in white."

	"That's because I'm blonde," she replied, "and my light hair
and eyes set off the suntan.  In white, your skin could get to look
too dark," she continued.

	"Oh," I sighed, "so what do you recommend?"

	Looking through the catalogs, Kelly found a satin outfit in a
deep midnight blue.

	"This looks like it would just match your eyes," she said as
she pointed.

	"Oh," I breathed, "I like it."

	"Okay, that's all you get to see," Kelly chuckled as she
closed the catalogs.  "The rest will be a surprise."

	"What about choosing the things you'll get for your prize?" I
asked.

	"We said I'd get the same things except for color and size.
I'll match your outfits only in the colors I already use.  That's all
you need to know," she teased.

	Kelly was the first to reach her ten pound savings goal, and
insisted on preparing her order herself.  It was two days later that I
reached my own goal.  That evening, she showed me the sealed
envelopes, ready to be mailed.

	"More than one envelope," I mused.  "Where're they all going?"

	"No peeking," she laughed, "you'll just have to wait and see."

	"Oh well," I grumped, "at least I'll see what you get a couple
of days before mine comes in."

	"No you won't," she grinned.  "I combined the orders.
Everything should come in at the same time."

	With the first goal reached but the rewards not received, we
both lost a little intensity and our weight loss stagnated.  We kept
our suppers light but were allowing ourselves to eat more like we had
been for lunch, or breakfast.  We had made enough life-style change to
keep from gaining back our saved weight but couldn't seem to reduce
further.  Then the first package arrived.

	When I got home, I noticed a sticker on our door explaining
that a package from one of the well-known lingerie manufacturers had
been left with our neighbor.  I hurried to get it, hardly daring to
breathe from excitement.  Our neighbor Billie Jo, a lean, short-haired
woman who had always seemed a little distant to me, brought the
package with a thoughtful smile.

	"New clothes?" she asked.

	"Yes," I replied, trying to suppress my blush.  "For my wife,"
I blundered on.

	"I've noticed that you and Kelly are out walking in the
evenings a lot.  You both seem to have lost some weight."

	"Nice of you to notice," I stammered.

	I looked at her a little more closely than I had before.  She
seemed more talkative than usual.  Had she noticed something
embarrassing about me?  Could she tell that I wore pantyhose, or had
shaved my legs?  Her own legs were long and trim.  She seemed almost
too muscular to be feminine and I wondered if she were a female
body-builder or something.

	"I must admit I always thought you and Kelly were sort of out
of shape," she went on.  "I think taking care of your body is very
important and I'm not comfortable with people who don't."

	"Well, Kelly and I decided we needed to do something.  We're
making a little progress."

	"Yes, I can see that.  You deserve some new clothes."

	"These are for Kelly," I repeated.

	"I know, you said that," she smiled.

	Perhaps I was reading too much into her words.  Looking back
on the conversation, it could have been completely innocent, but there
was a definite smile lurking behind her eyes.  The box she held was
clearly labeled with a lingerie manufacturers logo, yet she seemed to
be implying that the clothes were, or should have been, for me.  The
nervous tension from wondering how much she had noticed when I had
been outside in my shorts made me stammer and repeat myself, which
caused her to smile even more.

	I decided she must have known or suspected something even
before my tongue-tied embarrassment at her door.  However, she was
even more friendly than before and didn't seem shocked or disgusted,
only amused.

	"Um," I mumbled, "thanks for keeping this for us, I mean for
Kelly."

	Her smile expanded even further, with clear amusement beyond
that from a simple package delivery.  She handed me the package and
waved as I turned away from the door.  I could feel her eyes on me as
I walked away and I wondered what she was thinking.

	Not surprisingly, the package was addressed to Kelly and from
long tradition I never opened her mail.  My own mail always reached me
unopened as well, and while I had not really had anything to hide
(from Kelly), I appreciated the courtesy.  As a result, I had to leave
the package unopened though I was burning with curiosity.  Finally
Kelly arrived home, not especially late though it seemed like hours.

	"We got a package today," I blurted out as soon as she got in
the door.

	"Oh," she smiled.  "Where from?"

	I could tell she knew very well where the package must be from
and was just enjoying my anxious curiosity.  However, she had taken
charge of this part of our incentive program and I resolved to
maintain my composure and let her have her fun.  Someday I would get
my pleasant revenge.

	She glanced at the package as though it were uninteresting and
strolled into the bedroom to change clothes.  I was still wearing my
suit, except for the jacket which I had hung up, and she looked at me
as she passed.

	"You certainly won't be able to wear those clothes when you
try on your new ones," she teased.  "You better get in here and
strip."

	"I will if you will," I countered.

	"Deal," she said, and proceeded to unzip her skirt.

	Soon it became a race, which proved she was as interested as I
was.  In no time, we were both nude.  She reached out to stroke my
smooth legs and hairless chest.

	"I do enjoy you without all that hair," she grinned.  "I
wondered if I would or not, but it really turns me on to see you all
clean and shiny."

	"Turns me on, too," I mumbled, still somewhat embarrassed but
unable to hide the truth.

	"Yes, that's obvious," she giggled.  "Now, hand me that
package."

	She had me turn around as she opened it, then I heard her gasp
with pleasure.  I started to turn toward her and she exclaimed, "Don't
you dare turn around until I tell you!  In fact, I'm going to make it
so you can't peek."

	With a gleeful girlish laugh, she reached for the silk scarf
we had used for her stretching massage, and tied it over my eyes.  I
heard the rustle of packing paper, and the sound of plastic bags being
ripped open.

	"We'll start with this," she said, and I felt a garter belt
being fastened around my waist.  The garters dangled down on either
side of my pulsing erection and along the sides of my hips.

	"Sit down," she said, pushing me back to the vanity chair.

	Next I felt soft stockings being smoothed up my legs, and
fastened to the garters.  When she had everything adjusted, the
stockings were held snugly up and the garter belt rode securely on my
hips.

	"Stand up again," she directed.

	I stood up, and she tapped one foot to make me raise it.
Balancing against the top of her makeup table, I lifted one
stocking-clad leg, and felt her pull some underwear around, it, but
the leg hole seemed much larger than I expected.  She pulled my leg
back to the floor, and then urged me to lift the other.  The underwear
went around that leg as well and she guided my foot to the floor.
Then she pulled the underwear up my legs.  As it reached my hips I
realized that it was only a minimum thong-style bikini, though it had
a surprisingly large pouch, almost enough to contain my raging
erection.

	"I found these in the men's section of the catalog," she
giggled.  "Imagine that, men wearing thong bikinis in satin.  Who
would ever believe it?"

	Since I stood there in just such a bikini, it was clear that
she knew who would believe it, but I found it interesting that enough
men bought them to make it worthwhile for the lingerie manufacturer to
carry them.  The next thing I knew, she was pulling my arms together
and threading them through the straps of a bra which she quickly
fastened in back.  I was surprised to find that the bra fit quite
well, except for the cups, of course, which were not padded.  My
disappointment must have shown because she giggled again.

	"Don't worry," she laughed, "I have tits for you, of the best
kind.  Except for real ones, of course."

	The pads she inserted into the bra cups were soft and pliable
and I wondered what they looked like.

	"Just a minute more, darling," she said.  "Let me get caught
up with you."

	She took decidedly longer than one minute as I anxiously
waited, listening to the rustle of wrapping and the slither of
stockings.  While I waited, I ran my fingers along the smooth texture
of the stockings, and cupped my hands under the surprisingly full bra
cups.  Then she was guiding me to turn away from her vanity mirror.

	She said, "I don't want you peeking until everything is
ready."

I felt her untying my blindfold, then she removed it but held it
spread below my chin so that I couldn't look down.  I blinked my eyes
open and focused on her wide, ecstatic smile.  When she saw that I was
ready she gently urged me to turn around.

	My first thought was actually one of disappointment.  My love
handles were very much in view.  Unconsciously I pulled in my stomach
and thrust my chest out, which had an amazing effect on my "tits".
They swayed and jiggled almost like real breasts and I could see
definite nipple bulges in the satin bra cups.  I reached up to touch
them, which brought a laugh and an explanation from Kelly.

	"I got you the best silicone falsies I could find.  They even
have nipple forms in them.  We need to make sure we always get them
positioned correctly, but they look terrific."

	My outfit of panties and bra, with garter belt and stockings,
was all in a deep, shimmering midnight blue.  The contrast with my
newly-shaved body was dramatic and exciting.  The dark colors made my
skin look like rich cream.  The stockings were almost black, though
stretched into grayness except for the lace fringe at the tops.  I
turned around to obtain a rear view in the mirror and saw thin,
elegant seams accenting the back of each of my legs.  The narrow thong
was almost completely hidden in the crack of my ass, which looked
surprisingly trim considering the roll around my waist.  I grabbed at
my love handles in disgust.

	"Oh, don't worry about that," Kelly chided.  "They don't look
that bad, and besides, we're still going to lose some more weight."

	I had been so enamored at my own outfit that I had forgotten
to look at Kelly.  Her outfit also shimmered in shiny satin, but the
color was an icy blue that matched her own eyes.  She had no need for
falsies and filled out her own bra very nicely.  Her glowing tan
seemed incredibly vibrant and healthy next to the frosty blue color.
She had chosen to go with lighter stockings that otherwise looked to
be a match for mine, complete to the elegant seams.

	"Wow!" I exclaimed.  "You are gorgeous.  We should have gotten
you an outfit like that a long time ago."

	"My tummy bulge looks worse than your love handles," she
pouted.

	"No way," I disagreed.  "You look terrific.  But we do need to
keep losing weight.  Have you thought about the incentives for the
next ten pounds?"

	"Wait a minute," she interrupted.  "What about the rest of my
incentive present?"

	"Oh, that's right," I agreed.  "Let me get them for you."

	As I walked to the armoire, I could feel the garters sliding
over my essentially nude hips and the stretch of the stockings.  My
tits swayed most convincingly in my bra, and I could see highlights in
the satin as I moved by the lights in the room.  I opened the correct
drawer and withdrew the cuffs I had selected.  Rather than go with
conventional metal handcuffs that I thought might hurt during extended
sessions, I had gotten some fur-lined leather cuffs from one of the
catalogs with unusual items.  They were actually separate restraints,
but I had also gotten a couple of different length chains with
padlocks to complete the set.  I returned and handed them to Kelly.

	"Turn around," she ordered.

	I smiled and complied, placing my hands behind my back.

	Kelly fumbled with the restraints for a few minutes, then
placed them on my wrists.  She selected a short chain and then opened
the padlock package.  The two padlocks were part of a set with matched
keys and she dangled the keys over my shoulder where I could see them,
then tossed them on the dresser.  In a moment, the padlocks clicked
into place and my arms were securely bound behind me.

	"Now, for the part of your incentive that I didn't tell you
about," she said.  Her tone was intended to be ominous, but she
spoiled it by giggling part way through.

	"Sit down on the vanity chair again," she directed.  "You need
to put your arms behind the chair back, and relax.  You'll be there
for a few minutes.  Don't move."

	With that, she left the room for a minute, going in to our
closet.  She returned with two shoe boxes.  Opening one of the boxes,
she revealed elegant ice-blue satin pumps with towering heels.  They
had to be over 4 inches tall!  These she placed on her own feet, then
she opened the other box, revealing an obviously larger pair in my own
midnight color.  Lifting my legs, she quickly placed the high-heeled
pumps on my feet.

	"Don't try to stand up, yet," she said.  "That will come
later.  Close your eyes, and don't open them till I tell you to."

	I complied, curious about what other surprises she had in
store for me.  First, I felt a series of sharp pulls as Kelly removed
some of the hairs of my eyebrows.  In a moment, I felt a creamy
moisture being applied to my forehead.  The cream was spread across
all of my face, and down onto my neck, spread so smoothly that it
seemed to be absorbed into my skin.  Next, I felt a light brush along
my cheekbones.  Then there were a series of swabs applied to my
eyelids.  A delicate pencil lined my upper lashes.

"Okay," she said, "open your eyes, but don't look in the mirror."

	Kelly carefully applied eyeliner to my lower eyelid.  Next,
she worked mascara onto my lashes, patiently adding layers until they
were long and full.  When my right eye was complete, she started on
the left where the process was repeated.  Finally, I was directed to
hold my mouth still and a frosty dark red was brushed onto my lips.
In what seemed like an age but was probably about 20 minutes, she was
satisfied.  She had blocked the mirror with her body so I couldn't see
what she had done so I looked up at her in silent question about the
effectiveness of her endeavors.  Once again, I saw that tentative look
on her face that she had when she first saw my shaved legs in
pantyhose.

	"What's the matter?" I asked.

	"Nothing . . . nothing at all," she replied.

	Moving out of the way, she let me look into the mirror, and I
gasped with pleasure.  I was gorgeous!  It was unbelievable what a
change the careful makeup had made.  My skin glowed with a smoothness
I had never seen and my eyes!  Delicate pinks and golds and subtle
mauves in eyeshadow had brought out the highlights of the deep
midnight blue of my eyes, and the eyeliner had made them look so
large!  She had plucked my eyebrows just enough to achieve a strong
Kathy Ireland shape, and the overall effect was sensually feminine
without going so far that Ran would be compromised.  It was a good
thing my arms were bound, or I would have had to touch my face to see
if it was really me.

	"Kelly, you're a wonder.  I wouldn't have believed it if I
hadn't seen it myself."

	"Yes," she said quietly, "you're very beautiful."

	It was clear from the tone of her voice that she was jealous
again, and this time with perhaps more reason.  Her own makeup was
what she had worn to work, not the glamour glitz she had placed on me.
At the moment, I really did look even prettier than she did.  She
clearly needed a little ego-stroking.

	"I've always told you how beautiful you were when you went all
out.  If it can make this much difference with an ugly mug like mine,
just think how terrific it makes you look when you give it your best.
Why don't you freshen up your makeup a little?  I'm apparently not
going anywhere."

	This last was to remind her that I was essentially tied to the
chair.  I'm not sure I could have stood up in my towering heels even
with my hands free and certainly wouldn't try with my arms bound
behind the chair.

	She laughed as she shook off her pensive mood and said it
wouldn't be necessary.  Then she removed the cuffs and helped me to
stand.  I tottered uncertainly on the high spikes, trying to find the
right weight balance between my toes and heels.  Kelly gracefully
swayed across the room and back and then challenged me to follow her.
I stepped forward and nearly fell.

	"No," she said, "you can't walk like a man in those shoes.
Watch."

	Again she swayed across the room and back, swinging her hips
so that she could transfer her weight lightly onto the tall heels.

"Shorten your stride.  Put one foot directly in front of the other,
not slightly to the side like a man does.  Exaggerate it to begin
with. It will really get your hips to swinging, which you need."

	I tried again, first stiffly, awkwardly, but eventually
achieving an interesting sway as I began to loosen up.

	"That's it," she chortled.  "Swing those hips, baby!"

	It started feeling better, even easy to swing along in those
towering shoes.  At one turn I caught sight of myself in the
floor-length mirror and froze at the image.  There I was, inches
taller than I had ever been before, hips swung out to one side and
legs that ran up forever, shimmering in super-sheer stockings.  I was
captivated by the smooth shine of the satin.

	"What's the matter, now?" she asked, then noticed what I was
looking at.

	"Not too bad," she nodded in agreement with my unspoken
impression.

	"Well," I said, "losing ten pounds was worth it to me.  How
about you?"

	"Oops," she cried.  "I almost forgot.  That's not all you
get."

	She went back to the closet and returned with another package.
Opening it, she revealed matching corsets, again in midnight and ice
blue.

	"Take off your bra, but save the falsies," she directed.  "And
take the garter belt loose, but keep your stockings on."

	As I complied, she drew forth my corset and began to undo the
laces.  Once she had it loose enough, she had me draw it on over my
legs and up above my hips.  It didn't seem very tight as she adjusted
it into position.  She handed me the breast forms, and helped me to
position them in the bra cups of the corset.

	"Okay," she said, "hang on to the bedpost."

	I reached out for the corner post of the bed, more for balance
in my still-unsteady shoes than for anything else, when she yanked on
the laces hard enough I had to grab on for real.

	"Hold still!" she ordered.  "I'm just getting started."

	She drew the laces tighter and tighter, working each bit of
slack down to the ends then pulling it out.  I began to feel like I
couldn't breathe and needed to use the upper part of my chest rather
than just letting my belly bulge when my diaphragm moved.  The phrase
"heaving breasts" took on a whole new meaning as my chest motion
increased.  Eventually, after I had several times been sure that she
couldn't possibly pull out any more, she tied off the ends of the
laces.  She helped me to fasten the stockings to the garters of the
corset and I turned to look at myself in the full-length mirror.  My
breath, already difficult, stopped altogether for a long moment at the
spectacular sight.  Once again, I was amazed at the transformation.
Before, I had enjoyed the look of the bra and panties but been
disappointed at the bulge around my waist.  Now, my love handles were
hidden and my waist nipped in an amazing amount within the corset.
There was so much more of the shimmering dark satin with the corset,
every inch seeming to catch a highlight from one lamp or another.  I
turned and twisted as much as I was able within the stiff material and
tried to get my breathing started again.

	As I turned, I noticed Kelly's ice-blue corset still in the
package.

	"Take off your own bra," I told her.  "It's your turn now."

	We repeated our earlier process with roles reversed and soon I
was tugging on her laces.  I was determined that she should be held at
least as tightly as me.  She gasped as each additional inch of lace
was drawn out and soon was begging me to stop.  Kelly didn't let loose
of the bedpost however, and I wouldn't let up until I had as much as I
could get.  When I did stop, her waist was nipped in even tighter than
mine, and her chest was heaving at least as much.

	"Wow," she breathed.  "This is really something.  How could
women stand this?"

	"Look at yourself in the mirror, beautiful," I answered.

	When she saw her reflection, with the figure every woman
dreams of having, a bright and happy smile lit up her face.  I could
see her self-confidence return, though with a difference.  From now on
I didn't think she would take her looks for granted.  Instead, she
knew she had to work at looking her best, but that the rewards would
be worth it.

	"Okay," she said, "now I understand."

	At this point, even with the tight corset or perhaps because
of it, my stomach grumbled.

	Kelly laughed and said, "that's right, we haven't eaten yet."

	Reaching in to the box, she drew out two short silk
wrap-robes, one in each color.  Handing me the midnight blue one, she
wrapped her own around herself and tied it snugly.  I put my own robe
on, and laughed as I tied it.

	"I can't see my waist, there seem to be a pair of obstructions
in my line of sight."

	Kelly giggled and nodded, her own figure enhanced by the
corset she wore.

	The short robe barely covered the tops of my stockings and
rubbed against my bare ass-cheeks as I walked with Kelly to the
kitchen.  Every little movement seemed to cause the hem of my robe to
swish up and I felt as though my fanny were fully exposed.  However,
whenever I forgot to exaggerate the sway of my hips, I would stumble
slightly.  About that time I also realized that my feet had begun to
hurt.

	"I'm going to have to take off these shoes," I complained.
"My feet are killing me."

	"Don't you dare," Kelly threatened.  "Learn to live with it.
Mine hurt, too, but we'll both just have to get used to these shoes."

	When we sat down to eat, the robe rode up high enough that the
skin of my ass was sitting directly on the chair.  A few inches of
pale thigh showed above the tops of my stockings and the sense of
being exposed was intense.  I had never realized how even shorts
provided a guarantee of coverage that was unavailable with skirts.

	After we ate, Kelly asked, "Are you ready for our walk?"

	"Don't be silly," I replied.  "But I'll get ready.  Will you
unlace me?"

	"Nope," she grinned.  "Put on your exercise tights and running
shoes.  I'll get you a shirt."

	"Wait a minute," I resisted.  "I can't go out there wearing
this corset and falsies!"

	"Yes you can," she insisted.  "We spent enough time in our
fashion show that it's already dark.  You're lucky I'm not insisting
you wear shorts.  I would insist if you had on suntan colored
stockings instead of those lovely dark ones."

	Poised between reluctance and excitement, I didn't move for a
moment.  Kelly laughed and grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet.
Tottering on my high heels I helped her clean our few dishes and
swayed back into the bedroom.  I found my exercise tights, and then
slipped off the spiked pumps with both regret and relief, carefully
packing them away in their shoe box and vowing to try them again.  I
unwrapped my robe, sighing again at the elegant sight of the dark,
shimmery satin of my corset.  Sliding the thin, tight exercise pants
up over my smooth, stocking-clad legs I could see that the garters
would be very noticeable.  By this time, however, I was getting so
excited at the idea of going out while wearing such feminine
underthings that I was willing to take the risk.  I put on my running
shoes and went to the closet to get a loose shirt.

	Kelly met me at the doorway, and handed me a knit sport shirt.
When I pulled it on, it hardly fit over my full breasts.  I had
thought that the garter straps would be noticeable, but they were
nothing.  My bustline was flamboyant! Undeniable! Gorgeous!  Entirely
too obvious!  I looked at Kelly and started to complain, but the
smirking challenge in her eyes made me determined to show I could take
anything she could dream up.  Then she added, or reminded me of, yet
another risk.

	"Let me touch up your lipstick before we go out," she slyly
suggested.

	Lipstick!  I had forgotten that my face was made up with the
same flamboyance the corset gave my figure.  My blush must have shown
even through the makeup and Kelly's smirk widened even further.  I was
almost trembling with tension from the conflict of desire and fear.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I tried to decide which would show
worst.  The darkness outside would probably make the chance of someone
noticing my makeup less than the risk caused by the corset and tight
sport shirt.  Still blushing hotly, but more determined than ever to
complete the thrill of this amazing evening, I nodded.

	Her surprise showed in her eyes, but she quickly sat me down
at her vanity table and in no time I was as glamorous as I had been
earlier.  We walked to the door and Kelly took one last look at me,
letting her eyes travel from head to toe.  Her amused look transformed
into something more like respect as she realized that I was a lot more
adventurous than she had given me credit for, and a lot more beautiful
as well.  I started to take a deep breath but the tight corset kept me
contained, so I settled for a rueful grin and stepped outside.

	We walked together down our driveway to the street and turned
to follow the curb.  There happened to be a streetlight between our
house and our neighbor's, Billie Jo.  As we passed under the light I
glanced up at Billie Jo's house and thought I saw a momentary gleam at
one of her windows, as though a curtain had been lifted.  Was she
watching us, I wondered?  I saw nothing further and we set off at our
usual brisk pace.  Soon, though, we had to slow down as the corsets
kept us from breathing as deeply as we needed to.  Grinning at each
other in our shared secret, we slowed our pace to a more leisurely
stroll.  Eventually we completed our path and returned to our home.
Once inside, I decided to take charge of the rest of the evening in
order to ensure that the full impact of reaching our goal had been
met.



Chapter 6 - Spoiled Slave



	In the bedroom I began to remove my running shoes and exercise
tights.  As Kelly removed her own, I suggested, "How about a rubdown?"

	"Ooh," she smiled, "I sure could use one."

	"We'll have to remove these corsets.  Back to the belly
bulge," I sighed, " but it will be a relief."

	We quickly unlaced each other and carefully packed our corsets
and stockings away.  Clad only in our thong bikinis, we faced each
other.  I gave Kelly a quick hug and had her lie face down on the bed.
As I worked warm oil into her neck and shoulders, she sighed with
contentment.  Moving down her back, I reached the strap of her thong,
and pulled at it.

	"Why don't you remove this," I suggested.  "It's getting in
the way."

	In reply she merely raised her hips up off the bed, allowing
me to pull the thong down to her knees.  Then, as she relaxed again, I
worked it the rest of the way off.  I was trying hard to keep myself
from panting with anticipation at what would come next, as I finished
rubbing oil into her legs.

	"Roll over," I directed.

	As she complied I reached for the ankle restraints and the
fur-lined wrist cuffs as well as the bungees.  Motioning her to lie
still, I fastened the ankle restraints around each leg and then pulled
the bungees hooks into their rings.  Kelly reached her arms above her
head, feeling for the scarf.

	"No scarf tonight," I softly informed her.  "I told you I
would work something out that would keep your hands from getting
tired."

	Up to this point she hadn't noticed that I had the wrist cuffs
with me.  She looked at them, and then at the padlocks still sitting
on the dresser.  She relaxed as she realized (she thought) that I
would not really be locking her into the cuffs.  I took her arms and
placed a cuff around each, then she stretched up to the headboard
again.  This time I looped the bungee around the corner post of the
bed.  The tension with the opposite corner post that held her ankle
was sufficient to make her rouse a little from her relaxed state.
Without apparent hurry, but as quickly as I could, I fastened her
other wrist to the final corner.  She was now spread-eagled and under
steady, but not painful, tension.

	"You didn't do this before," she protested, unsure of where we
were headed.

	"Relax," I calmed her, "this will be better than the last
time."

	As I resumed my massage, I could feel the tension in her
muscles that was not due to the pull of the bungees.  Without hurry, I
worked the warm oil into her arms and legs, allowing Kelly to adapt to
the novelty of bondage without threat.  Soon she was again drifting
languidly into a dozing state, enjoying the stretch and feeling the
kinks in her back relax.  When I had finished, I once again threw a
comforter over her, and went toward the kitchen.

	Kelly roused a little and realized that she could not begin to
release herself.

	"Where are you going?" she demanded.

	"To get you some wine.  Wouldn't you like some?"

	"Yes," she admitted, "but I can't get loose."

	"I guess that means you'll just have to trust me," I smiled as
I left the room, ignoring her confused stammer.

	In a few minutes, I returned.  She was beginning to get
concerned.

	"When are you going to let me up?"

	"Are you uncomfortable?" I asked.

	"Well, not really," she said, " but it makes me nervous to be
helpless like this."

	"Why," I asked as I held the wineglass to her lips.  "Don't
you trust me?"

	She nodded as she swallowed.  "Yes, but you don't need to tie
me down to keep me around."

	"The bungees are just for tension, to help you loosen the
kinks of a long day."

	"However, since you're still nervous," I continued, "I guess I
need to do a little more to relax you."

	With that I set the wineglasses aside and began to softly
trail my fingers over her nipples.  In no time they were hard buttons,
and Kelly was starting to breathe harder.

	"You better stop before you get into trouble," she threatened.
"Sooner or later you will have to let me up."

	Smiling, I said, "Then sooner or later, I may get into
trouble."

	I replaced my fingers with my tongue, licking her nipples into
even greater extension.  In the mirror, I noticed that my lips were
still full and deep red with lipstick.  In amusement, I planted a firm
kiss next to one of Kelly's nipples, leaving a scarlet record of my
lips.

	I stretched out next to her, and began to kiss her lips while
teasing her pubic hair lightly with my fingers.  She looked at the
carefully made-up face which was kissing her and hesitated.  Soon,
however, as my fingers danced deeper into her nether lips, she began
to kiss me in earnest.

	"Let me loose, darling, and I will make it worth your while,"
she whispered.

	"Promises, promises," I grinned.  "You're going to make it
worth my while, anyway."

	Her juices were soon flowing over my fingers and I moved back
to let my tongue dance over her nipples.  Sucking softly, I left red
impressions on each nipple, then caught her erect buttons lightly in
my teeth and teased them to ever greater hardness.

	Kelly began to move against my hand.  With her arms and legs
restrained, her only motion was to lift her hips, trying to capture
more of my plunging fingers.  She began to pant and toss her head.

	"Oh, stop," she begged.  "I'm on fire.  Let me loose so I can
screw you silly."

	"All in good time," I replied.

	I removed my hand from her lower lips, provoking a moan of
near-pain from my captive lover.  Moving to straddle her chest, I
pulled down the front of my thong.  My rock-hard erection sprang out,
nearly poking Kelly in the nose.  Chuckling, I moved until the tip was
nudging her lips.

	She looked up at me with a frown, then a look of resolution as
she decided to play along with the next portion of the game.  Kelly
likes oral sex from either side and can take an amazing amount of my
cock down her throat, but only if she can position herself correctly.
The relentless tension from the bungees kept her from doing more than
raising her head slightly.  She gently kissed the tip of my sword, and
then started licking what she could reach, but the strain on her neck
quickly tired her.

I reached down and cradled her head in my hands.  With the tension off
her neck muscles, Kelly was able to relax.  I started to feed her more
and more of my raging erection, and she closed her eyes as she enjoyed
the taste and texture of my cock.  In a few minutes I was sliding in
and out of her mouth as she concentrated on keeping her teeth clear
and on energetic use of her tongue.  I noticed a small smile appear
around her eyes, and she started to suck with increasing vigor.  I
could tell she was trying to reassert control.  If she could get me
off, she thought, I would be satisfied and release her.  Her talented
tongue and incredible suction pressure nearly achieved her goal but I
was determined to bring this evening to the right kind of climax.

	I backed away from her, which brought a small groan of
disappointment from her moist lips.  Then she opened her eyes and
said, "Are you ready to let me loose, now?  I'll finish what I
started."

	"Not yet," I refused.  "But you're right about one thing, we
are just getting started."

	I moved down between her thighs, working one arm under each
leg.  Blowing softly on her still-moist lower lips, I provoked a
shudder from Kelly's bound body.  I gently began to wash her nubbin
with my tongue, dipping into her love canal for additional liquid to
spread around.  Soon her breath was again coming in tortured gasps.
When I judged the time was right, I began to suck on her glistening
jewel.  As it often does, this sent her over the edge into spasms of
ecstasy.  However, the tension from the bungees keep her too spread
for leverage, and she couldn't arch up into her usual strong bow.
Instead, she was held in a state of balance, taut as a drumhead.  And
like a drum she began to vibrate in rapid waves.  She shook from wrist
to ankle in overlapping pulses of energy.  Her head, the only part not
tightly constrained, rolled back and forth in mindless passion as she
breathed in panting grunts, half moan, half gasp.

	Unlike our usual practice, I did not slack off at her first
orgasm.  I maintained my pressure on her jewel, tugging and licking in
quick succession.  Soon she found herself straining for another
climax, even higher than before.  Her vibrations reached a new
intensity, a greater frequency, and her breathing stopped altogether
for a long moment.  As she came down from the heights she had reached,
she began to beg.

	"Please, you must stop, I can't take any more of this!"

	At this plea, I did stop, and moved up from between her
thighs.  It took her a few seconds to realize that I had complied, and
then her entreaties changed.

	"No!  I didn't mean it!  You can't stop!  I need you, I need
more, I need . . . !"

	By this time, my lips had reached her erect nipples, and I
gently licked at one.  The effect could not have been greater with an
electric wire.  Kelly shrieked with shock and began to moan again.  I
continued my journey, and my pulsing erection was soon poised at the
liquid gateway to her passion.  Gently I entered her, sliding in
easily through her moist entrance until my sword was buried to the
hilt.  Again she gasped.  I could feel her muscles shudder, both
internal and external.  I was amazed to notice that I could actually
see waves of muscle spasm pass along her out-stretched arms.  As I
began to stroke, I captured her lips with my mouth, and sent a probing
tongue to fence with her own.  By this time, she was mindless,
moaning, panting, shivering in unfocused passion.  I increased my pace
until she was once again poised on the brink of climax.  Sensing the
pressure within her, I began to pound into her, readying myself to
take advantage of what I knew would soon appear.  Almost too soon, for
in another instant she exploded beneath me, or perhaps I should say
imploded, for without any ability to release her energy in great
arching motions her body focused inward into incredible high-speed
vibrations which seemed to reach a peak in the muscles clenching my
engorged erection.  This released my own climax, and my grunts of
power were balanced by her silent scream of release, her breath to
short for any sound.  For an eternal instant we were joined at a
higher plane than we had ever achieved.  Then we slammed back into the
world around us, barely able to breathe, and unable to believe what we
had shared.  I gently stroked into her to ease her back to mortal
existence.  In a moment, her eyes opened and she smiled softly.

	"Oh my, my, my, that was unbelievable," she whispered.  "You
definitely spoil me, but I could definitely get used to it," she said
with a dreamy smile.

	I rolled off her and began to massage her arms, still under
tension from the bungees.  She no longer seemed to be in any hurry to
be released, in fact, she didn't seem to even be in a hurry to
breathe. I continued down her body, kneading each major muscle group
with patient thoroughness.  Kelly watched me idly, as though it were
another body being touched.  Finally I completed her legs and pulled
the bungees to release the tension.  The restraints on her arms
followed and I pulled her to me.  She hugged me warmly, but softly,
with no strength of her own.  Throughout this final massage Kelly had
worn a gentle, ethereal smile, as though she were still living in a
higher plane not held down by mundane limits.

I kissed her gently and laid her back down on the bed.  Pulling the
comforter over her to keep her from cooling down too fast, I reached
again for the wine I had brought.  She took her glass in both hands
where the surface of the liquid revealed a small, continuing quiver.
Though she had been panting heavily, she only sipped at her wine,
savoring each drop.  In a moment, her eyes drooped and I took the
glass from her.  Turning off the light, I slipped into bed to find her
already sound asleep.



Chapter 7 - The New Incentive



	The next morning at the gym we weighed to find that Kelly had
lost two pounds in her exertions of the night before, while I had lost
only a little.  Smiling with remembered pleasure, we nonetheless
realized that Kelly's savings might be only temporary.  We needed a
new incentive.  Kelly drew me aside and began to whisper.

	"For our next ten pounds, I already know your incentive," she
grinned.

	"Indeed?" I questioned with arched eyebrow.

	"Sure," she chuckled.  "You already have the lingerie, though
for some reason we didn't get to the nightgown, yet," she grinned,
fully aware of the reason.  "The next step is clearly to get you some
feminine outer clothes.  I think three outfits again.  Let's see.  One
will be a casual outfit, with a denim mini-skirt, lacy blouse, and
high-heeled sandals.  The second will be a trim women's suit, with
ruffles on the blouse, and the third will be a dress.  I may have to
think about the dress for a while, but I have some ideas in mind."

	My blood was rising to my cheeks, what there was of it since
much of my blood seemed occupied elsewhere.  I turned to the wall to
keep from advertising too explicitly and looked at Kelly in amazement.

	"You're really excited at the thought of transforming me," I
whispered in surprise.

	"I intend to keep pushing as long as it excites you, as it
certainly did last night," she giggled.

	"Okay," I replied, "but two can play at this game.  For your
incentive, since you already have a denim mini and a business suit, I
will concentrate on a dress.  Your body is looking better all the
time, so we're going to show it off a little.  We'll find you a
leather dress, soft as butter, and so tight that it would show your
panty and bra lines, except," I paused for effect," you won't be
wearing any."

	Now it was Kelly's turn to blush.  She has always resisted
too-revealing clothes, except for relatively short skirts.  I had
often urged her to go braless but she had demurred except for exercise
clothes, citing her definitely greater-than-average endowment.  Now,
though, she knew I wasn't joking.  With a small gulp, she nodded.  The
change in each of us was hard to believe.  Over the last month or so,
while we had only lost about ten pounds, we had shed a truckload of
inhibitions.  Kelly was beginning to realize that she could be a
knockout if she put out a little effort, and was having tremendous fun
with me as a full-size Barbie doll.  For myself, if someone had told
me a month ago that I would be wearing an incredibly tight corset,
impossibly tall heels, and glamorously beautiful makeup, I would have
laughed even as I blushed.  Now, I could hardly wait for our next
plateau of intensity.

	A definite goal helped me keep my appetite under control and I
made it through the day with little to eat.  That evening, I had
stripped down and was considering what to wear when Kelly sauntered
in.

	"I think you need a little more practice," she offered, and
reached for my satin pumps.

	"I will if you will," I countered.

	Kelly grinned and nodded, knowing that she was more
comfortable in them than I was.  She handed me my garter belt and
well-filled bra, and then showed me a package of several of the thong
bikinis in my size.  I looked around for the dark, seamed stockings,
but Kelly said she had washed them out and they were drying.  Instead,
she gave me a pair of sheer suntan stockings, similar to the color of
the pantyhose I had been wearing.  Soon I was dressed and again
tottering on the towering heels, trying to remember how to walk.  I
slipped on my short robe, and waited for Kelly to dress in her own
matching outfit.

	We ate our salad supper, discussing the days events.  As
darkness approached, Kelly got up and slipped on a pair of shorts
which were just long enough to cover the tops of her stockings.  She
added a tee-shirt and began to put on her running shoes.

	"Hurry up," she said, "it's time for our walk."

	I quickly (or at least as quickly as I could in the spiked
pumps) went into the bedroom and found a sport shirt and some longer
shorts which would cover the tops of my own stockings.  Removing my
heels, I pulled on the clothes and then my own running shoes.  Soon we
were on our way, striding briskly along our path.  A few blocks from
our house, we met our neighbor, Billie Jo coming the other way.  I
tried to casually move behind Kelly to hide my stockings and the bosom
my tight shirt revealed.  Since it was dark it was not too obvious,
but the amused smile was back in Billie Jo's eyes.  Billie Jo was
striding purposefully herself and our combined pace allowed us to pass
with nothing more than a wave.  Once we were by, however, I could
swear that I felt Billie Jo's eyes gazing at the backs of my legs.  I
blushed hotly but kept walking, trying to seem as though there were
nothing unusual about us.

	"She sure was looking us over," Kelly noted.

	"She mentioned that she noticed we had lost weight," I said.

	"When did you talk with her?" Kelly asked.

	"When I went to pick up our package, yesterday after work.  We
only talked for a minute," I explained.

	As we walked along, Kelly was lost in thought.  In a few
minutes, she asked, "Do you think she's pretty?"

	"What brought that on?" I asked.

	"Answer the question," she directed.

	"Well," I replied, "I guess so, if you like them lean and sort
of hard, but her hair's too short.  I prefer women who are more
feminine, like you."

	"That's good," Kelly smiled, but she still had a thoughtful
expression.

	That night after we had returned home I went to remove my
lingerie and Kelly followed me into the bedroom.  She brought out a
package I had not yet seen.

	"When you get undressed, leave everything off except for the
thong," she directed.

	For a moment, I wondered what was in the box, then I
remembered that she had promised a nightgown as part of the first
incentive package.  Opening the package with a flourish, Kelly drew
out a long, wine-red gown.

	"What do you think of it?" she asked.

	"Goodness," I replied, "it certainly is red."

	Kelly laughed and held it up to the light.  It seemed to be
mostly sheer, including everything below the waist.  The gown was
sleeveless, with a halter-style lace collar.  In a moment, I realized
the non-see-though portions were concentrated just above the waist and
in the collar.  She motioned me to stand and try it on.

	Blushing with anticipation, I complied.  She slipped the gown
over my up-stretched arms and let it fall about my legs.  The high
lace collar was fastened about my neck and then I saw the purpose of
the opaque panels at the midriff.  This gown incorporated a corset of
its own!  In a moment, Kelly had me holding on to the bedpost again
and was working the slack out of the laces.

	"I had to order a special collar," she giggled in my ear as
she worked.  "They don't have many with a 16 inch neck.  But you need
the high collar to hide your Adam's Apple."

	The more-delicate material of the nightgown wouldn't allow as
tight a lacing as the stiffer satin corset so I was soon bedecked in
the flowing red material.  It was sheer over my (flat) bust, and
clearly showed the minimum thong bikini.

	"Why did you choose red?" I asked.

	"Oh, you don't want everything in just one color.  Besides, I
figured you would look really good in a dark red.  Men don't usually
wear red suits so I couldn't really tell for sure, but the color is
great on you!"

	"It's too late tonight to do your face again," she continued,
"but we will have to try that out together with the gown.  That blush
clashes, though," she laughed, as the idea brought a flush to my
cheeks.

	Then she extracted the matching peignoir.  As I put it on and
fastened the ribbon ties, I realized that the combination of two
layers made the outfit entirely opaque.  It now was suitable for a
lady to wear as "something more comfortable" without directly exposing
all of her assets, though so provocative that the invitation would be
unmistakable.  The long hems of both the nightgown and the peignoir
dragged on the floor, really too long by a few inches.  As I swept the
flowing material around, Kelly noticed it brushing the floor.

	"Oh," she cried, "I almost forgot."

	She brought out another smaller box and extracted a pair of
feathery slippers, perched on several inches of died-to-match satin
heel.  Slipping these on my feet, the outfit was complete.  Once again
the high-heeled shoes had done their magic, making my legs appear long
and shapely.  Kelly pulled me around to look in the mirror, and
pleased smiles lit both our faces.  However, Kelly was still in her
walking clothes, and shorter by so many inches that her head didn't
clear my shoulder.  The contrast in heights triggered us to remember
that Kelly was supposed to have a similar outfit.

	As she brought hers out I realized that Kelly had chosen a red
tone for her outfit as well, but in a pale pink which made her tanned
skin seem warm enough to glow in the dark.  Soon I was lacing her into
her own gown and then helping her with her peignoir and shoes.  In
interesting contrast to my own bust, her dark nipples seemed enormous
behind the sheer pink layer.  Even with two layers hiding the color,
the erect buds provided undeniable indications of her arousal.

	"Come with me," she said, and took my hand.

	We strolled together through the house to the back door.
Kelly stepped out onto our foot-lighted patio, obviously heading
toward the lounge chairs placed there.  I held back at the door.

	"I can't go out there dressed like this.  What if someone
sees?"

	"Then we have them arrested for being a peeping Tom," she
giggled.

	Pulling harder on my hand, she urged me out of the house.  As
we sat on the lounges, the lower parts of our robes slipped open,
revealing the transparency of the single sheer layer beneath.  I tried
to pull the soft material back around my legs, but Kelly laughed as
the almost-liquid flow whispered down again.  The footlights gave the
patio a warm, soft glow, leaving our heads in relative shadow.  In a
few minutes our eyes adjusted and it seemed as though the patio were
brightly lit, but I knew that features would be hard to make out from
any distance.

	Kelly looked absolutely angelic in the soft light.  Her pale
robes seemed ready to blossom into wings at the slightest invitation.
My own darker outfit suggested an entirely different sort of creature,
which elicited a chuckle from me.

	"What are you laughing at," she asked with a perplexed smile.

	"You are so gorgeous in the moonlight, you look like an angel
about to take wing.  On the other hand, my red outfit suggests
. . . ," I explained.

	Kelly's silvery laugh tinkled out into the darkness.

	A flicker of motion caught my eye, in an upstairs window in
Billie Jo's house.  For a moment, I thought I might have seen a face
in her window, looking out through parted curtains, but the
higher-level darkness concealed any detail even more effectively than
the shadows on our patio.  It could just as easily have been a
reflection from a tree limb passing before the moon.

	After a short period of quiet silence, we were relaxed and
ready for bed.  Kelly gracefully flowed up from her lounge, and helped
to steady me as I struggled up onto my heels.  Laughing, Kelly
confirmed that I did need practice in walking in women's shoes.  As I
worked to remember my hip swing, we moved back across the patio and
into the house.  The soft material swishing over my bare ass cheeks
fascinated me as I walked.  It provided real-time feedback on how well
I was moving, which helped me to make rapid progress.  When I
mentioned this to Kelly, she suggested that I walk around for a few
minutes.  Soon I was able to sashay nearly as well as she did, even
without thinking about it.  The shorter stride necessitated by the
high heels became more natural and Kelly grinned with compliment for
my progress.

We finally headed for the bedroom and carefully removed our peignoirs.
The sheer material of the nightgowns revealed Kelly's nipples, which
highlighted the contrast with mine.

	"Oh, well, can't have everything," I mused as we slid into
bed.

	Nestling in each others arms, we drifted off to sleep.  My
last thought was of how the still-tight corset reminded me to keep my
belly sucked in.  I wondered if wearing it all night would help even
when I took it off.

	Our new routine continued.  We worked out every morning, and
our weights resumed their downward trend.  I practiced on my new shoes
in the evening, and we went on our walks.  I generally wore pantyhose
rather than the garter belt and stockings, and seldom wore the bra.
Some evenings, we saw Billie Jo who continued to wear an amused
expression.  Our waves in passing became brief hello's.  One evening,
thankfully while I was not wearing the bra and falsies, Billie Jo
motioned us to stop.

	"You guys are looking much better," she complimented us.

	I nodded from behind Kelly's shoulder, where I had moved to
try and hide my legs.

	"Thanks," Kelly said.  "We're trying."

	Smiling, Kelly moved on with a wave.  I scurried to keep her
between Billie Jo and myself, prompting an even wider version of the
seemingly perpetual amused grin on Billie Jo's face.  As we passed, I
was sure that Billie Jo turned to look after us.

	"I think she knows," I whispered to Kelly.

	"Maybe," she agreed, "but she seems friendlier than she did
before.  Maybe she likes it.  Or maybe it is just that we both look
more fit.  She seems so body-conscious.  That may be all she notices
about anyone."

	"I don't know," I disagreed, unconvinced.



Chapter 8 - Milady Dewinter



	With our re-energized incentives we were making good progress
toward our second ten-pound goal.  One evening Kelly brought out a new
series of catalogs stocked with beautiful clothes.  Taking careful
measurements indicated that I was rapidly approaching size 10, though
actually smaller in the hips.  Kelly could now wear a size 7, though
it would be tight in the bust.  Glancing through the images of the
clothes, we mused over several styles when Kelly abruptly closed the
catalog.

	"Okay," she said, "I know what I want to get you.  Everything
from here will be a surprise."

	"You're right about that," I agreed, " but I still want a
couple of those catalogs."

	Selecting out the ones specializing in leather clothes, I took
them off by myself.  In a moment we were both busily making notes,
which we then laughingly hid from each other as though they were deep
mysteries.  Our orders were prepared and held in anticipation of
making our second goal which I made first this time, though only by
one day, then we sent off the orders and waited impatiently for
packages to arrive.  Though we had resolved not to lose our momentum,
once again the intensity had gone out of our commitment to shed
weight.  By now our body fat percentages had dropped quite a bit and
the exercise we were getting was actually impeding our weight loss, by
building muscle.  Our evening walk was as fast-paced as ever, but had
become as easy as a stroll in the park.

	Though it seemed like forever, it was only about a week later
that I again noticed a sticker on our door.  Realizing that the
package had once more been left with Billie Jo, I considered leaving
it there until Kelly got home so that she could pick it up.  However,
after only a few minutes of anxious pacing I knew I had to go get it
myself.

	Despite my firm resolve to be cool, calm, and casual, when I
once again looked into Billie Jo's amused smile, I could feel a flush
rising to my cheeks.

	"Do you have a package for us?" I asked.

	"Certainly, actually two," she replied.  "Would you like to
step in for a minute?"

	"Well," I stammered, though my feet made their way across her
threshold, "I really can't stay.  Kelly will be home any second."

	She turned to get the packages she glanced over her shoulder
at me and said, "The two of you are getting in much better shape.
Maybe we could walk together some evening, now that we seem to be
setting a similar pace."

	This time the amusement in her eyes shouted that she knew the
question would embarrass me, which it did.  My face burned with the
thought that there was no way she would not notice my shaved legs if
we walked together, even if I didn't wear pantyhose.  Then she dropped
a bombshell.

	"I think a man who can look like a beautiful woman, and is
willing to do so, is incredibly attractive."

	At this, my embarrassment flamed in my face.  I could feel
sweat breaking out on my brow and dampness in my palms.  My mouth
dropped open in shock and I didn't know whether to run away, try and
laugh, or angrily deny her claim.

	She laughed with a much more earthy sound than Kelly's silvery
giggle, then handed me the packages with her perpetual smile cranked
up to a blinding level.

	"Come by after you've tried on your clothes.  Everyone should
have a chance to show off their finery."

	Still blushing hotly, I turned and almost ran back to our
house.  When Kelly finally got home, I debated telling her about our
discovered secret but knew that she would find out soon, regardless of
whether I told her myself.  I poured out my tale, the flush seemingly
permanent in my cheeks.  I expected shock and dismay on Kelly's part
as a mirror of my own, but she seemed to have caught the amused-smile
disease instead.

	"What do you think we should do," she prodded.

	"I don't know," I admitted.  "Our lives have been so much more
interesting since we expanded our horizons in the last couple of
months.  Going back to slowly climbing weight, limited energy, and
ordinary sex just doesn't seem enough any more."

	"I agree," Kelly affirmed.  "Let's think about it after your
fashion show."

	The thought of new, feminine clothes, a complete outfit,
brought back that inescapable blush I seemed afflicted with that
night, but I was also so excited I could hardly breathe.

	"First," Kelly proclaimed, "we need to get you in your
corset."

	"Are you going to wear yours, as well?" I asked.

	"Certainly," she smiled.  "I learned my lesson the other
night.  Anything we do to make you look better, we do to me as well.
I'm not going to be second prettiest in my own house!"

	Laughing, we moved to the bedroom where we repeated our
previous adventure, though I was sure she laced me even tighter than
before, a complaint she echoed about my own efforts.  Once we were
both elegantly made up and perched on our towering heels, Kelly
brought out the first new package.  In it was a silk and lace party
dress.  Like the nightgown, it had a high collar, but this dress was
in the deep midnight blue of my corset and shoes.  The lace was
strategically placed at the neck and shoulders, to hint at but not
reveal the mammary charms I didn't really have.  I tried to slip it on
over my shoulders, but they were still too broad for the narrow waist
of the dress, even when fully unzipped.  So I stepped into it from
below instead.  It slid by my narrow hips with ease and then I was
able to feed my arms through the long, fluffy sleeves.  Kelly zipped
up the back to reveal an amazingly trim waist, thanks to the tight
corset.  Now that the dress was settled into place, I could see that
it was not much longer than our short robes.  I could feel cool air
under the tight skirt and just knew I was showing everything.

	"I can't wear this," I complained, "at least, not without
regular pantyhose and full underwear."

	"Oh yes you can," she insisted.  "This is what we agreed on.
You've learned to watch yourself well enough, from our practice.  Just
sit carefully and don't bend over," she giggled.

	"Let me see you wear one as short, then," I insisted.

	"Gladly," she grinned.  "You're not the only one with good
looking legs."

	Her leather dress had not arrived yet so she pulled out a
black leather mini-skirt we had gotten her previously.  It had been
too tight and was still quite snug about her current, trimmer hips,
but I had to admit that the length was not much longer than my dress.
She added a lacy black blouse which was almost solid enough to hide
her own corset, though it let glimpses of icy blue peek through.

The combination of improvements had turned Kelly into a goddess of
beauty, angelic in face yet intensely sensuous in body.  Even though I
now wore beautiful clothes as well, I let out a long, appreciative
wolf whistle at my glorious bride, forgetting all about my feminine
side as her sensuality triggered my masculinity.  Recognizing that the
compliment was heartfelt and well deserved, Kelly grinned with pride.

	Then she looked at me and said, "Wait a minute, we're not done
with you, yet."

	 Wondering what else was to come, I let her lead me over to
the vanity chair again.  She seated me facing away from the mirror,
and then opened the other package.  In it was a long wig, tumbling
with thick waves of a deep brown that matched my own hair, in color at
least.  I gasped at the sight of this beautiful hair, trembling with
the thought of how it would look.  I wanted to turn around and hold it
up by my head to see immediately but Kelly would not allow it.  She
insisted that I keep turned away from the mirror until she was ready.
Finally, after a time which made all previous waits seem instantaneous
she allowed me to stand and turn.  The wig fell in sensual waves to my
waist, except for flippant bangs which hid my own hairline.  In the
mirror were not one, but two beautiful women.  Kelly glowed with a
most intriguing combination of angelic sensuality, while I provided a
counterpoint with just as much incredible beauty, but no trace of
angels.  As a team, we reinforced each other's attractiveness,
highlighting by contrast the best features of each.  I stood without
speaking for a time which seemed to stretch out to infinity, unwilling
to break the spell of magic we had cast.  Kelly was the first to stir,
herself amazed at the effectiveness of the transformation.

	She said, "There are just a few more items, and we're ready."

	Ready for what? I wondered.  I would have expected her to say
"done".

	She drew silk gloves which matched my dress from a drawer and
had me put them on, sliding the ends up under the long sleeves.

	"These will hide your hands," she said.  "Your nails are
trimmed in too masculine a style."

	She added clip earrings and a bracelet, pondered a moment,
then added a couple of rings with richly colored crystalline gems
after which she stood back for a final inspection.

	Like all great art, the final details are the transformation
from merely good to magnificent.  I had thought vaguely about
earrings, but never about my hands.  The deep blue silk gloves made my
hands seem more delicate, more shapely, and the jewelry Kelly had
selected provide just the right finishing touches.

	"My, my, my," she murmured.  "You look great."

	Nodding, still not sure I could speak, I slowly turned before
the mirror to see myself from all sides.  Kelly's proud grin was
infectious, and by the time I completed my turn, I was also smiling
with pride.

	"Well, Ran, there's only one more thing to do," she declared.

	"What?" I asked.  "I can't believe what has happened already.
What more can there be?"

	"Why, you need a name, of course.  You certainly can't be
Randall when you look like that."

	"Oh be serious," I laughed, relieved that it was something
that seemed such a minor issue.  "You know who I am and no one else
will ever know, so I don't need any other names."

	"Wrong on two counts," Kelly grinned, enjoying herself
immensely.

	"First," she continued, "Billie Jo already knows enough that
an explanation will be needed.  But more than that, you need a
feminine name to remind yourself to be feminine.  When you're dressed
up, you need to become entirely a woman, in all respects.  Now, what
do you want to be called?"

	After only a moment's thought, my new name was clear to me,
derived closely enough from my own name to be easily remembered yet
full of meaning as well.  My full name is Benjamin Randall Dewinter,
Jr.  To avoid confusion with my father, my family had called me
Randall, or Randy, which I had shortened to Ran in junior high so I
would sound more "grown up."  Since then I had formally signed as
B. Randall Dewinter, but most people didn't even know my first
initial.  The chance to be the mysterious Milady Dewinter, of Three
Musketeers fame, whose wonderfully complex character was somewhere
between devil and survivor, but certainly never an angel, called to me
in a way I couldn't ignore so I knew I had to keep my real family
name.  For my feminine name, I would merge my first initial with my
normal name and become "Brandy Dewinter", Ran's sister. The satisfied
smile awakening on my face betrayed my success before I started to
speak.  In a moment, Kelly was smiling, too, well pleased with my
choice.

	"So, Brandy, where do you want to go for supper?" she asked
with a grin.

	Damn!  This was certainly my day for blushing!  Clearly I had
become accustomed to dressing up within the house but the risk of
exposure in public never failed to bring blood to my cheeks, just as
it never failed to excite me.

	Shaking my head in automatic reflex, I started to refuse but
Kelly already had my arm and was pulling me toward the door.  On the
way, she grabbed her own purse and got an elegant clutch bag for me.
In my bag she put my lipstick and a few other makeup items, along with
some cash "for mad money" she giggled.  I felt myself being swept up
in the excitement, giddy and out of control.  The success of the
transformation made me really believe I could get away with it, and
part of me had to try.  As we were about to leave, she looked down and
saw that she was still wearing her ice-blue satin pumps, which
definitely didn't work with a black leather mini-skirt and black lace
blouse.  She quickly ran back into the bedroom and returned wearing
spike-heeled black boots instead.

	"No fair," I giggled, "those heels are not nearly as high as
mine."

	"Too bad," she laughed in return.  "We'll have to get me some
other shoes."

	Swaying with learned grace in my towering heels, I followed
her out the door to Kelly's Camaro.  On the way to the passenger door
I realized how much I had learned to shorten my stride.  With a
definite destination in mind rather than just in-house
experimentation, my slower pace seemed to drag forever, especially
since I felt so exposed in the micro-skirt.  Finally I made it to the
passenger door and swung it open.  I started to insert one leg as I
usually did and felt the skirt start to rise up.  Quickly I put my
legs together and froze.

	"What's the matter?" Kelly asked.

	"I can't get in the car," I whispered.  "My dress is too
tight, and much too short!"

	Kelly laughed out loud at my predicament, which didn't help a
bit.

	"Quiet," I hissed helplessly.  "Everyone will start looking!"

	Controlling her mirth with a visible effort, Kelly told me the
secret, "Sit down on the seat first, then pull both legs in together."

	I tried her trick, which worked to maintain what little
modesty I had left, but I practically had to fall off my high heels to
get down to seat level.  Getting out was going to be impossible.  As
Kelly backed down the drive, we passed my pick-up.  Only in Texas, I
thought, can an investment counselor get away with driving a pick-up
to work.  I realized that climbing up into those seats would provide a
lot more of a show than falling into the Camaro had accomplished.  As
we entered the street I started to duck down to hide from our
neighbors.

	"Don't do that," she warned.  "You'll just look more obvious.
Just remember, you are Brandy Dewinter, Ran's sister.  And you are
gorgeous.  Act proud, as though you have nothing to hide, because sure
as can be, as soon as you look like you're hiding something, someone
will try to find out what."

	With this sage advice I straightened in the seat and began to
look around.  We went by some of our neighbors, who waved.  I smiled
and waved back, but the tension sat in my stomach like a heavy ball.
The lark we had started on had already become more frightening than
fun.  Yet, under my fear my excitement maintained itself at an
unbelievable level.  Never again would I feel my life was boring, that
at least was a sure thing.

	As we drove along, I started thinking about the total person
Brandy needed to become.  I had incredible looks, great clothes, a
native guide to the trackless realms of femininity.  What else did I
need?  I started to ask Kelly and in that moment realized that my
voice, while in tenor range, did not match the rest of Brandy's
persona.

	I decided Brandy needed a warm contralto I could sustain,
rather than a falsetto soprano which would be sure to crack at just
the wrong time.  To me, a woman's voice has always seemed musical and
I wondered if my voice would sound better if I sort of sang every
word, rather than just speaking.  I straightened up and cleared my
throat.

	"What's wrong?" Kelly asked.

	Holding up a hand to silence her, I concentrated on achieving
a pure tone.  "What do you think of this for Brandy's voice?" I sang
softly.

	"Outstanding!" Kelly laughed.  "By George, I think you've got
it!"

	I laughed with her, then giggled as I realized my laugh had
reverted to Ran's voice.  Trying again, I succeeded in "singing" a
warm laugh.  Somehow, achieving a feminine voice represented a
dividing point for me.  From that point on I was Brandy in a way that
external appearance alone had not made me.  For the first time I
really felt like a woman, rather than like a man cross-dressing (even
with unbelievable success).  I began to relax, my excitement still
bubbling inside, but the fear of discovery receding as I put away the
thought that there was anything to discover.

	"Where do you want to go eat?" Kelly asked once again.

	"I think I'm a little over-dressed for McDonalds," I sang.
"Let's go somewhere dark."

	Kelly giggled, but then nodded.  After a short drive we were
pulling into an up-scale restaurant where Ran and Kelly had often
dined, though of course Brandy had never been there.  Kelly wheeled up
to the valet and I realized I had no clue how to get out of the car.
She bounced out quickly, but I just sat there in confusion.  The valet
reached for my door and opened it just as he would for any lady and it
seemed as though I had been waiting for just that gesture.  Now what
should I do?

	Swinging my legs out of the car, I tried to keep my trembling
knees together, conscious of my inadequate skirt.  I placed my heels
as close to the car as possible, and reached for the windshield frame
for support.  Before I found something to hold on to the valet had
intercepted my gloved hand and was helping me to my feet.  I tried to
stand gracefully, and was surprised at how important a steadying hand
was in making the transition.  Self-consciously I smoothed the skirt
of my dress down as far as it would go (little though that was), shook
out my surprisingly heavy mane of hair in a rippling cascade from my
head to my waist, and looked around for Kelly.  Interestingly, the
valet had not yet let go of my hand.  I looked down at my glove as
though the hand it contained belonged to a stranger, then up at the
valet.  When I met his eyes they were smiling with more than
professional friendliness.  Once he knew he had my attention he
released my hand, with a squeeze so slight I thought I might have
imagined it if I had not seen the flicker of a wink at the same time.

	"I hope we can show you ladies a good time, tonight," he said
courteously.  It was clear he intended more meaning than the surface
words alone conveyed.

	The flush I was cursed with that night flooded my cheeks as I
stood in tongue-tied confusion.  I dropped my eyes, not realizing
until after I had done it that my extended lashes would make this into
a flirtation.  His smile broadened and he moved out of the way.
Searching frantically for Kelly, I saw her grinning at the door.  I
was going to have to learn that look of secret amusement since it
seemed to be so useful to Kelly and to Billie Jo.  I wondered if it
truly were contagious, and if so, could a pretend woman catch it as
well as a real woman.  I moved to walk toward her, and only remembered
to shorten my stride at the last instant as my tight dress restricted
my leg.  Placing my first foot carefully in place, I relaxed and let
my hips start to swing as I had learned.  Behind me, I heard a low but
unmistakable wolf whistle.  Burning hotter than ever, I started to
turn around, then realized that I would surely tumble off my towering
shoes if I tried any quick changes of direction.  Instead, with only
the barest of pauses, I resumed my walk.  However, the break in my
rhythm had thrown me off stride and I needed to add an extra little
wiggle to get my hips moving in sync with my footsteps.  This wiggle
provoked a masculine chuckle behind me and an answering silver giggle
from Kelly.

	As soon as I reached her, Kelly grabbed my arm and whispered,
"You're shameless!  You did that deliberately."

	"No, I didn't," I protested, "I just got my feet tangled and
. . ."

	"Oh, be quiet," Kelly interrupted with another giggle.
"You're not fooling anybody."

	She obviously could see the fire burning in my cheeks so she
knew how embarrassed I truly was, but her outrageous accusation set
her tone for the rest of the evening.  At every opportunity, she built
on the theme that I was flirting with all the guys.  After a while, I
began to believe she may have been right, however subconscious it was,
for everything I did seemed to convey invitation and certainly
provoked interest.

	Not surprisingly, there were no tables ready when we entered
so Kelly put her name on the list and we moved into the bar for a
drink.  Slipping into a quiet corner booth, Kelly motioned to the
waitress.  Kelly ordered a martini, but I decided on a glass of white
wine.  As I softly sang my order I looked at the waitress, wondering
how my voice was working.  The waitress barely glanced at me, too busy
to pay close attention.  Then Kelly whispered she had to visit the
powder room, did I want to come along?

	Shaking my head quickly, I hissed at her, "I can't go in
there, but don't leave me alone!"

	Laughing at my predicament, she stood and was abruptly gone.

	I glanced nervously around, wondering how many people were
staring at me.  As my eyes roamed, it seemed I could feel the eyes of
most of the men in the room.  Without meaning to, unless at some
unconscious level, I found myself in eye contact with a tall, muscular
man at the bar.  He smiled and raised his drink to me.  Blushing
furiously, I dropped my eyes to my gloved hands.  Lustrous waves of
dark hair flowed liquidly past my shoulders to frame my face.  In a
moment, I saw a powerful hand set a drink down on the table before me.

	"I believe you ordered wine," I heard a deep voice say.  "I
intercepted this from the waitress."

	I raised my eyes to look at him without moving my head, not
realizing until I had again made eye contact that this up-from-under
look was another flirtation.  I saw an answering smile flow from his
eyes and he slid into the booth without specific invitation.  He
seemed to have captured my gaze, I could not look away.  I was afraid
that as soon as I did, I would appear so shifty and suspicious that he
would start wondering about issues that must remain hidden.

	"Most times," he mused pitifully, "when a guy buys a lady a
drink, he at least gets a smile and a thank you."

	Unable to help myself, I had to grin at his mournful
complaint, which was completely invalidated by the broad smile he
wore.

	"That's better," he chuckled.  "I knew you could do it, now
what does it take to get you to say something?"

	"I don't know," I sang back to him.  "What did you have in
mind?"

	Before he could answer, Kelly arrived back at our table.  Her
amused expression seemed welded to her smirking face, but her eyes
widened at the sight of my table companion.

	"Who's this?" she asked with an undertone of amazement.

	The tall man waited for me to respond, smiling at the
knowledge that I would have to speak again if he did not.

	"I don't know," I admitted softly, my eyes still captured by
his powerful smile.

	Taking pity on me at last, he admitted to Kelly that he had
just invited himself over.  He introduced himself as Roger Tanyon.

	"But call me Dart," he went on, provoking a helpless giggle
from me.  "Everybody does."

	"Why would they do that?" Kelly asked, carrying the
conversation since I still sat tongue-tied.

	"Because I like to play darts in a pub I go to," he explained.
"I got started years ago in college and the nickname stuck, oops, no
pun intended."

	At this I giggled again, unable to contain myself.  Dart and
Kelly looked at me quizzically, wondering what had come over me.

	Struggling to maintain my singing voice while simultaneously
containing my giggles, I finally managed to enter the conversation.

	"Tell me, um, Dart," I inquired, "have you ever heard of
Milady Dewinter?"

	"Yes," he admitted with a grin, acknowledging that I had
caught the true pun in his name, and thinking that he understood the
significance of my question.

	Kelly had not made the connection, and looked at us both as
though we were crazy.  "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

	"Let me complete the introductions," I replied.  Speaking to
Dart I said, "My confused and not-terribly-well-read friend here is
Kelly Dewinter, my sister-in-law.  My name is Brandy Dewinter, and I'm
visiting with Kelly and my brother for a while."  Looking toward Kelly
I continued, "Kelly our new friend here is Dart Tanyon, who seems to
have misplaced Athos, Aramis, and Porthos, the Three Musketeers."

	Kelly finally made the connection, adding her own blush to the
collection I had been maintaining.  At that time, our table was
called.  I would have let it end there but then I saw a look in
Kelly's eyes which promised revenge for my fun at her expense.

	"Would you like to eat with us?" she offered to Dart.  "Surely
Dartagnan should be allowed to dine with not one, but two Ladies
Dewinter."

	"Perhaps," he allowed, standing up so quickly it was clear his
reluctance was feigned.  "Will you try and poison me like your
namesake?"

	"Perhaps," we returned in chorus, provoking fits of giggles
from Kelly and me and a deeper-toned chuckle from Dart.  Kelly, who
was still standing, picked up her drink and turned to follow the
hostess.  As I started to slide from the booth, I found myself staring
at Dart's large hand, held out to help me.  Placing a gloved hand
which suddenly seemed even smaller in his powerful one, I let him help
me to stand.  Kelly was waiting with her amused smile, but I imagined
I could see a thoughtful expression filling in beneath the surface.
As Dart followed us to the table, I could feel his eyes tracing the
long seams from my impossibly tall heels to my dangerously short
skirt.  Yet I could only continue the exaggerated swing of my hips
made necessary by my spiked pumps.

	By now Kelly and I were accustomed to salad for supper and so
our orders were placed accordingly.  Dart ordered a massive prime rib,
making it clear that if it were not rare enough to threaten to get up
and walk away, the waiter would have to try again.  Our table was in a
darkly intimate corner of the restaurant and I could have removed my
gloves if we were alone.  With our companion, however, I kept them on
throughout the meal, passing on the breadsticks and other finger
foods.  After what seemed a very short time we realized that we had
eaten everything in sight.  Kelly stood and grabbed my hand.

	"Come with me, Brandy," she ordered.  "We'll be right back,"
she smiled at Dart.

	Pulling me along behind her, Kelly again headed for the powder
room.  Though I pulled back at the door, she insisted, dragging me in
behind her.

	"I had to get you away for a minute," she explained.  "For two
things.  First, you really do need to powder, and to refresh your
lipstick."

	Taking my purse, she pulled out the essential ingredients, and
brought my face back to the unbelievable standard she had set.  When
we had walked in I thought the room was empty but then I heard a flush
and a young woman came out of one of the stalls, pulling down her
dress.  My glance, attracted by the noise and motion, lingered for a
second before I turned away with a fresh blush.

	"Good thing I finished your face before you blushed again,"
Kelly giggled, which provoked an even more pronounced heat to light my
cheeks.

	"You're going to have to get used to this," she continued.
"Keeping your makeup fresh takes attention.  I can see I'll have to
teach you how to do it for when I'm not around."

	"I'm never going out like this except with you!" I protested.

	"Perhaps," she chuckled, recalling our own earlier comments.

	I was ready to protest more, but the other woman had come
close on her way from the powder room.  When she was gone, Kelly spoke
before I had a chance.

	"Now for the second reason I brought you in here," she
continued.  "We've got to decide what we're going to do with Dart."

	"What do you mean, 'do with him'?" I asked.  "We leave him
here and go home."

	"Are you sure you want that?" she asked.  "From the way you've
been flirting with him, I thought maybe you wanted me to go home alone
and let you find your own way."

	"I have not been flirting!" I insisted.  "You're the one who
invited him to join us.  Besides, I couldn't possibly go anywhere with
him.  The whole problem is not to let him know my secret!  Besides
that, I'm not interested in anyone but you!"

	"Wondered if you'd get around to that last reason," she
grinned.  "You do seem to have your excuses lined up.  I wonder how
many you really believe."

	"Look, I'm not mad or jealous," she declared.  "I think it
would be a real kick to see how far you could go before he found out.
How about if we give him our number and see what develops?"

	By this time I was reduced to wordless spluttering, which
provoked the usual amused grin from Kelly.  Glancing in the mirror for
final inspection, she again grabbed my gloved hand and pulled me back
into the main restaurant.

	When we reached our table, it was to find Dart glancing at his
watch.

	"I hadn't realized how late it was," he said.  "The check is
taken care of.  Can I offer you ladies another drink in the bar?"

	"No, thanks," Kelly replied.  "We drove this evening and I've
had enough."

	"Then I can't offer you a ride home, either?" he asked.

	"No, thank you," I said softly, "but thank you for supper.
We've had a wonderful time."

	At this Kelly poked me in the ribs, which I hardly felt
through the corset, and grinned her I-told-you-so grin which I didn't
understand for a moment.  "Flirt," her lips silently accused, bringing
back the heat to my cheeks.

	"I hope I can see you again, some time," Dart opened the
negotiations, his eyes fixed solely on me.

	Kelly noticed his gaze but chose to interpret it as a plural
invitation, or at least chose to take action.  She pulled a notepad
from her purse and quickly wrote "Dewinter" and our phone number.
Remembering that I was only "visiting", Dart asked how long I expected
to be in town.

	"I don't know," I replied, "it depends on what I find to do."

	This provoked another poke from Kelly, which began to make me
glad for the protection of the corset.  I glared at her smirk, then
looked back at Dart.  Kelly offered him the note, which he took and
then shook her hand, obviously conscious and careful of the power of
his grip.  He offered his hand to me, which I reached for expecting an
equivalent handshake.  Instead, my gloved hand once captured in his
was raised to his lips for a courtly kiss.  He looked up at me with
sparkling eyes.  The previous heat I had felt in my cheeks seemed cool
in comparison with the raging inferno I knew must now be showing.  In
reflex I lowered my own eyes, then found them returning to him,
unconsciously repeating the flirtation caused by looking through my
long lashes.  Kelly's erupting giggle brought both of us back to earth
and I turned to follow her from the restaurant.  I glanced back over
my shoulder, but only saw my thick mane of hair.  In reflex I tossed
my head to move my hair away which accentuated my gesture, making it
obvious that I was looking back.  I saw Dart's face, but realized his
glance was aimed lower, at those long accent seams and the rhythmic
sway of my hips.  The motion of my hair caused him to raise his line
of sight, just in time to see me turn back away with another flip of
my waves of hair.  It was clear to everyone in the restaurant that our
attention was on each other, and I began to see what Kelly had meant
by being flirtatious.  It seemed flirting was merely being polite, but
with the special flavors made necessary by the features belonging to a
woman, like long hair, high heels, and a soft voice.  Sure, that was
it, I tried to convince myself.

	The same parking lot attendant met us at the door, and quickly
went to get Kelly's Camaro.  He bounced out of the driver's seat and
then left Kelly standing there, tip in hand, as he hurried around to
the passenger door.  This he opened for me with a blinding smile and
offered his hand to help me into the car.  Carefully keeping my knees
together I let him slow my fall into the seat and then swung my legs
inside.  Realizing he had missed his tip, I fumbled in my purse for a
few dollars, and only found a ten.  As I held this in confusion, he
took it from my gloved hand.

	"Thank you, miss!" he exclaimed.  "If you're ever in the
neighborhood, drop in.  We'll treat you right!"  This time his wink
was undeniable.

	Kelly slipped into her side and started the car. As soon as we
were away from the entrance, she turned to me and cheered, "You're a
hit, girl!  Dart would have been in your pants in a heartbeat, and
that attendant was drooling so bad I wanted to offer him a Kleenex."

	"Oh be quiet," I protested, but I knew she was right.  Thanks
to Kelly's matchless skill with makeup and clothes, I knew I was
pretty, but so was she.  For some reason, Brandy was more interesting
to men than Kelly.  I wondered why.  I was dressed more elegantly and
the gloves were a major hit even beside their function of hiding my
masculine hands, but it seemed something more.  I looked at Kelly and
thought about our differences.  Given that we both looked beautiful,
the differences were her bubbling personality which went well with her
angelic face, against my quiet reserve which seemed to be a careful
control on the tendencies hinted at by my more worldly appearance.  I
wondered which factor was more significant.  Or, was it just that, as
a man I unconsciously knew what would attract men and found myself
doing those things without realizing it?  I had to agree, if I had
wanted either of those men, I would have had an invitation in an
instant.

	"Let's go home," I suggested to change the subject.  "My feet
are killing me, and I've got to get out of this corset."

	"Now you know what it's like," Kelly laughed.  "Do you feel
guilty, Ran, as a man, for being responsible for the pain women have
to go through?"

	"I'm not Ran," I sang.  "I'm his sister Brandy, and I don't
feel guilty about anything right now.  Maybe I should about some
things, but it wouldn't be about the sacrifices women make to please
men.  They're worth it!"

	When we finally made it home, we were both too tired to do
anything except strip, wash, and go to sleep.  We didn't even get
dressed in our flowing nightgowns.  As I drifted off to sleep, I
thought about my first truly public trip dressed as a woman and how
successful it had been.  I knew I would have to do it again.



Chapter 9 - Kelly's Turn



	At our workout the next morning I could feel the strain in my
leg muscles from the walking I had done in my high spikes.  Accepting
this as due penance for the exciting evening, I worked it out on the
stairmaster, then proceeded through the rest of my exercises.  My
weight had dropped a little though it was clear I needed a new goal if
I were to make any real progress.  Kelly, who hadn't gotten her prize
yet, complained about the slow service which showed that she was a bit
excited about her own upcoming exhibition.

	That evening there were no packages and I didn't know whether
to be disappointed or not.  I was anxious for my other two outfits and
wanted to see Kelly in hers, but packages delivered to Billie Jo's
house were almost more pain that reward.  We went walking that
evening, my own dressing up downgraded to only pantyhose under my
shorts.  On our way back we met Billie Jo near the start of her walk,
though in a relatively dark place on the street.  She stopped and
repeated to Kelly her request to walk with us sometime, to which Kelly
agreed with surprising alacrity.  Billie Jo barely seemed to look at
me until the end of their conversation.  Then, with a long, slow look
at my shaved legs shining even in the dark with the shimmer from the
pantyhose, she lit up her amused smile and said, "You're looking good,
Ran."

	Nodding thanks since I was too embarrassed to speak, I
wondered if the glow from my cheeks was as bright as her smile.  Kelly
grinned at me as well, then caught Billie Jo's eyes with a glance I
could not translate, but felt was more significant than I could
understand.  We continued on our way with Billie Jo once again looking
at the backs of my legs as we left.

	"Yes," Kelly whispered, "she knows, at least about your shaved
legs and pantyhose.  Maybe we should invite her out some night, as one
of the girls.  We can go to a singles bar and see who can pick up the
most men!"

	Slipping in to my Brandy voice, I softly sang my reply, "I
don't pick up men, they're too heavy.  Of course, trolling is okay, as
long as it's catch-and-release."

	Giggling like school girls we reached our house.  I thought we
might have passed the subject of walking with Billie Jo but I should
have known that Kelly would not let the matter rest.  The next evening
I happened to be a little late, so Kelly got home first.  Once I was
inside she told me that a new package had come.  I hurried into the
bedroom and noticed the package unopened on the bed.

	"Why didn't you see what we got?" I asked.  Then I noticed
that the package was addressed to me, which made it Kelly's new
outfit.

	Opening it quickly, I found the expected leather dress.  It
was softly tanned doeskin in a creamy ivory color.  Grinning broadly,
I commanded Kelly to strip.  She took off her outer clothes but stood
in her bra, panties, and pantyhose.  The blush coloring Kelly's cheeks
made it clear that she remembered the prohibition on underwear which
was part of this prize.  Pretending to compromise, I pointed out that
the dress was a bustier design, sleeveless and strapless, so the bra
would have to go.  She removed it and I held the soft leather up to
her form.

	"That dress is too small," Kelly protested.  She was actually
right.  I had ordered it in size 5, though she was a snug size 7.  But
this design laced all the way up the back so some adjustment was
possible, though at the cost of a gap.  To cover this I had ordered a
matching jacket, almost as long the micro-mini skirt.  Waving aside
her protests, I unlaced the dress and held it out to her.  She pulled
it on with apparent reluctance, but her hardened nipples betrayed her
excitement.  Once she had the dress in position I started to pull the
laces tight.

	"You know the routine," I chuckled.  "Grab the bedpost and
hang on."

	The cunning design of the dress hid effective stays without
losing its soft suppleness and in a few minutes Kelly was held almost
as tightly as in her satin corset.  However, unlike the corset which
had full bra cups that flowed into straps, the leather dress had only
a bustier.  Kelly's abundant bosom threatened to overflow the
tightly-laced bodice of the dress.  Her erect nipples clearly showed
through the thin material, very close to the top edge.  It seemed a
deep breath could be disastrous, but then, in her tight lacing Kelly
couldn't take a deep breath.

	The snug skit clearly showed her panty lines and the top of
her pantyhose.  Before I addressed that issue I decided to lift Kelly
to a higher level in her acceptance of my mastery and of her affinity
for bondage.  I turned to our "toys" drawer and withdrew both the
ankle restraints and the wrist cuffs.  Her eyes widened at the sight,
and another excited flush lit her cheeks.

	"Do you trust me?" I questioned.

	Licking her lips, she gulped a little air, but nodded.

	I placed the ankle restraints about her arms just above the
elbows, then put the wrist cuffs on her.  Gently pulling her arms up
behind her back, I locked each wrist to the opposite elbow cuff,
binding her forearms parallel and horizontal.  The position was not
uncomfortable, but it did force her to pull her shoulders back and
thrust her impressive bust forward.  She squirmed a little as she
discovered what little motion she could obtain, but did not protest.

	Smiling, I reached out and tweaked her nipples through the
soft dress.  Kelly gasped and moved her hips in an unconscious,
uncontrollable response.  Now that she had surrendered the initiative
to me, I proceeded to pull her panties and pantyhose down and off her
legs.  Reaching under the tight skirt, I gently teased at her curly
hair, provoking another gasp.  In a moment, the pungent fragrance of
her arousal drifted upward.

	"Milady Dewinter, methinks you like this game," I chuckled.

	Her first inclination was to deny it, but her body betrayed
her excitement so she stood mute instead, head bowed in embarrassment
but heat dancing in her eyes.  I removed the last items from the
package, a pair of thigh-high boots in matching ivory doeskin perched
on heels meeting the towering standard Kelly had set with our pumps.
I carefully sat her down on the vanity chair and placed the boots on
her feet.  They laced up from her ankles to almost the level of her
abbreviated skirt and I pulled them snug as patiently as I had laced
her into her dress.  Helping her to her feet I draped the jacket over
her shoulders, hiding both the gap in the dress and her bound arms.

	"Ready to do a little window shopping?" I grinned, reaching
again under her dress to caress her lower lips.

	"Whatever you say, Milord," she replied demurely, "but Milady
Dewinter could wish for a little relief before we go."

	Dropping out of the fantasy character for a moment she moaned,
"Oh, Ran, I'm so hot!  I'm going to burn up if you don't finish me
off, right now!"

	"Hmm," I mused.  "We may be able to work something out."

	I pulled the hem of her dress up above her hips, and gently
laid her back on the bed.  Her excited scent filled the room as I
began to lick and then suck at her pleasure nub.  Her arousal was
confirmed even more by the brevity of the interval until she was
arching in wordless ecstasy.  Panting desperately to obtain the breath
the tight dress denied, she gradually subsided.  I helped her to her
feet, pulled her dress back down, and gently drew my hands through her
tangled hair to straighten it.  In a moment, she was able to walk and
we moved from the house.

	I decided to take her car, now more understanding of the
challenge of climbing into the pickup while wearing a short skirt.  As
I escorted her to the passenger door Billie Jo came from her house and
waved.  Her eyes widened at the sight of Kelly in her tight leather
dress and high boots.  The jacket placed over Kelly's shoulders hid
the restraints but something in Billie Jo's eyes betrayed her
knowledge of what was going on.  She moved over to us, for once the
amused smile replaced with a more intense expression.  Interest
certainly, but something more as well, could it be lust I was seeing
in her eyes?  She approached closer, seemingly led by her own feet
without conscious volition.  A few feet away she froze and I could see
her nose flare as she sniffed the air.  Kelly's musk was still heavy
about her, more pungent by far than her normal perfume.  For the first
time I could remember, Billie Jo was showing definite signs of
arousal, hard points of nipples showing through her own thin shirt.
She approached closer and reached out unerringly to find the
restraints around Kelly's upper arms.  Panting heavily, Billie Jo
blushed and pulled her hand back.

	I had expected Kelly to pull away from Billie Jo's touch or
hide behind me in embarrassment.  Instead, she seemed to strike an
especially sensuous pose and her panting breath showed her response to
Billie Jo's exposed interest.

	"Is there something I can do for you?" Kelly asked, her voice
breathless and tight.

	So this is why she had been so receptive to Billie Jo's
advances, I mused.  I began to see a trend that I had overlooked
before.  Kelly's enthusiastic support of my cross-dressing, combined
with the weight I had lost, had resulted in my convergence toward the
image of lean femininity demonstrated by Billie Jo.  Yet, the image I
provided was not quite the same as the real thing, who stood
tongue-tied so close to my bound wife.  Kelly had always affirmed that
there were no other men who interested her.  As I reflected on her
comments I thought I could detect an emphasis on "men" that I had not
picked up on before.  Perhaps no other men interested her, but it
began to appear as though women might.

	"Hello, Billie Jo," I said, breaking the frozen tableau.
"We're just going shopping, would you care to come along?"

	"No," she stammered.  "I have my own errands to run."  She
quickly fled to her own driveway and into her car.  Once safely
inside, she looked back at Kelly and unconsciously licked her lips.  I
decided the cooly-amused smile must indeed be contagious for I could
feel the display on my own face.  Tearing her eyes away from Kelly,
Billie Jo's glance passed by my smile, and was captured for an instant
before she began to back her car out of the drive.  Her blush at my
smile was sweet revenge for her prior amusement at my expense.
Kelly's own excitement was confirmed by her continuing arousal.  Her
nipples showed clearly and her musky scent was being continually
reinforced.

	"My, my, my," I grinned, "now that was an interesting scene."

	Kelly blushed hotly at my amusement, knowing that she had been
too transparent in her own responses to deny her interest.  I helped
her into the car and carefully buckled her seat belt around her.  She
was now doubly bound, leaning slightly forward in the seat to make
room for her arms.  Soon we were backed out of our own driveway and
headed down the street.

	"I just found your incentive for the next ten pounds," I
chuckled.

	"What?" she asked, hope clear in her voice leavened with a
generous helping of embarrassment as well.

	"Why," I laughed, "I'll give you Billie Jo.  It looks like the
two of you could find some way to pass some time together."

	"Would you really?" she breathed, too far gone in her own
desires to pretend lack of interest.  "You wouldn't mind?"

	"You going to give me up permanently for her?" I asked.

	"No!" she cried.  "I wouldn't lose you for anything or
anyone."

	"But," she paused, slowly admitting to a long-kept secret, "it
would be exciting, at least once."

	"At least once," I confirmed.  "I'll have to work out a few
details with Billie Jo, but don't you worry about that.  You just
concentrate on losing your next ten pounds."

	The glow in her eyes confirmed her resolve.  I knew it would
be tough to keep up with her in this round of our weight-loss plan,
but by this time the weight loss had become secondary.  That was only
our excuse for fulfilling fantasies for each other, though the
benefits to our health were undeniable.

We drove to a nearby mall and I helped Kelly from the car.  I had
deliberately parked away from any entrance to give her time to
dissipate her scent of arousal while we were still outdoors.  As we
strolled along, window shopping or even entering a store for a closer
review, Kelly was the focus of all eyes.  Her obviously expensive
leather suit, high boots, and angelic beauty combined with the
detached reserve implied by her arms folded within the jacket to lift
her to some higher plane of elegance and glamour.  I could feel eyes
tracking her wherever we went, the men with desire, the women with
envy.  I could have been a million miles away for all the attention I
received.

	In a curious inversion, it became as though I were her
servant, conscientiously opening all doors for her, helping her at
stairs, and in all other ways doting on her.  Kelly obviously enjoyed
the attention, combined with the secret bondage which constrained her.
She was accepting my control over her public life as well as her
private life, and finding that the release of responsibility was
relaxing and exhilarating at the same time.

	When we finally were sated with window shopping I ushered
Kelly out of the mall and asked, "Are you ready to get something to
eat?"

	She shrugged her shoulders with a giggle, implying the
question of how I intended to accomplish that with her arms bound.  I
smiled and dangled the lock keys, which she looked at with both
longing and regret.

	"You don't have to walk all the way to the car in your heels,"
I offered.  "Wait here and I'll bring it around."

	Before she could protest, I walked away, more quickly than she
could follow on her tall spikes.  She nervously glanced around to see
what risk she took, standing bound and helpless without nearby escort.
Once I was out of sight I paused to peek back at her, watching her
deal with her situation.  It did not take long for the first would-be
hero to offer her any assistance she might require.  Despite her
normally effervescent personality, Kelly tried to maintain a cool
aloofness, discouraging attention which might lead even to an offer to
shake hands.  The cool of the evening combined with the excitement of
her predicament to cause her nipples to demonstrate their presence
through the thin leather.  Unable even to shield herself with her
arms, in fact, forced to thrust her tits forward in exuberant display,
she seemed to both invite and repel attention at the same time.  The
invitation was more compelling than the rejection and soon she had
multiple offers of assistance, re-lighting the fire in her cheeks as
she tried to maintain her emotional distance while surrounded
physically.

	I went to the car and drove around to rescue her.  Helping her
into the car, I again caught the scent of her arousal.  Her sigh of
relief was tinged with regret.

	"Sorry I took so long," I grinned, obviously enjoying her
mixed feelings.  I smiled at her unsuccessful rescuers, proud of the
desirability of my wife and of her absolute trust and commitment to
me.

	"So am I," she pretended to complain, but the dreamy look in
her eyes and aroused state of her nipples showed she had enjoyed the
experience.

	We went to a restaurant we enjoyed, though not the one Brandy
had patronized.  I had chosen one without valet parking and again I
parked a distance from the entrance.  I helped her from the car and
then released her restraints.  Removing her jacket, I rubbed her neck,
shoulders, and arms to work her through the discomfort which had
developed during her extended bondage.  The gap I had not been able to
pull out when lacing the too-small dress allowed a cool breeze to
caress her back.  The gap extended low enough to reveal inches of leg
cleavage to balance that threatening to pop from the top of her dress.
Realizing her exposure, she glanced around to see if we were observed,
then sighed as she relaxed into the massage.  Retrieving her jacket, I
helped her put her arms through the sleeves.  Then I closed and locked
the car and took her elbow to lead her to the entrance.

	We enjoyed our salad meal, laughing as we reminisced about
near-disasters as her jacket had almost fallen off or one of her
would-be rescuers had crowded too close.  In a short while we finished
and returned to the car.

	"Turn around," I directed, "break is over."

	Surprised that I intended to resume her bondage, Kelly glanced
at me and I could see a sequence of emotions race across her face.
First, she looked dismayed, with her normal self-reliance resisting
the thought of surrender.  Then I could see arousal resume as she
remembered the attention she had been getting.  Next, she showed
intrigue, wondering what else I had in store for her.  Finally, there
were trust and commitment as she accepted my control.  Dispensing with
the elbow restraints, I removed her jacket and merely bound her wrists
behind her back with the fur-lined cuffs and helped her into the seat,
capturing her in the seat belt again.  When we returned home, I took
her jacket and carefully hung it away, then smiled and stepped behind
her.  Reaching between her bound arms, I quickly unlaced her dress and
let it slip to the floor.  She stepped out of it, glowing with
sensuality, nude except for her bonds and her thigh-high boots.  I put
the dress away with equal care, then turned to her.  Her aroused
nipples invited my caress, and then a kiss.  She gasped and arched
into my lips, thrusting her tits toward me.  I grinned and caressed
her lower lips, drawing forth her ready moisture and reawakening the
aroma of desire.  Stepping back, I quickly worked to remove my
clothes, letting them drop with a careless urgency I had controlled
when I had her leather apparel.  Kelly molded herself against me, not
caring that I needed to have my own hands free to remove my clothes.
She laughed when her outthrust tits interfered with my hands, but her
lips were hungrily claiming my lips and she rubbed her body against
mine.

	When I was finally nude as well she used the height provided
by her tall heels to position her legs on either side of my erection,
and began to squeeze and rub herself against me.

	"Good," I panted.  "That's the idea.  Here's the deal.  You
get released after I come.  You can do anything you can manage and I
will kiss or caress whatever comes in reach of my lips and fingers."

	With that I moved to the bed and lay down, stretched out on my
back.  Kelly smiled and moved to the bed as well, knee-walking over to
me.  She leaned down to offer one engorged nipple to my smiling lips,
and I lifted my head to take it into my mouth.  Just as we made
connection, she overbalanced, falling into me and driving her hard
button into my teeth.  We both giggled, mine muffled by the mass of
tit covering my face, and she struggled to get her balance again.

	"This could be more trouble than it's worth," she complained,
but the smile in her eyes betrayed her enjoyment of the challenge.

	"Only if you let it be," I returned.  "You're a smart girl,
figure something out."

	Though my own erection was red and pulsing, she knee-walked
down between my legs and positioned herself where she could maintain
her balance while she studied my cock at very close range.  With an
impish grin, she blew softly on the tip.  Then, continuing her slow
tease, she licked her lips and took a deep breath.

	I interrupted the game she thought she was winning with a
reminder.  "Take as long as you want," I chuckled.  "You're the one
wearing the handcuffs."

	Kelly stuck her tongue out at me, then giggled and used her
protruding member to gently lick the tip of my cock.  It pulsed in
response, causing her to chase it with her head.  We both laughed,
then she began to wash my engorged sword from tip to hilt, leaving it
glistening and shiny.  Opening her lips she took just the head in her
mouth and sucked, first softly, then with building pressure.  As her
suction pressure increased she let my cock be drawn into her mouth
until it was bumping on the back of her throat.  She began to bob her
head up and down, leaving a fresh shine with every withdrawal, and
capturing more with each downstroke.  Like I said, when she can
position herself properly (or perhaps, sufficiently improperly) Kelly
can take an amazing amount of my cock down her throat.  She began to
relax and get into her task and was gradually approaching the short
hairs at the base of my shaft.  She had never before reached the base,
however that night because of her extended arousal or even because of
the change in her position caused by her bound arms, she took more and
more of my tower into her mouth until her lips gently bumped against
the curly wreath at the base.  Kelly paused at full capture for just a
moment, with highlights of joy shining in her eyes, then slowly
withdrew.  She continued to stroke up and down, each time matching her
new personal record for depth of penetration.

	By now, my amusement was transforming into need as she
achieved an arousal in me matching her own. Her smiling eyes watched
me as I tried to maintain my control, but as she saw sweat break out
on my face, she stopped and sat back.  My answering groan elicited her
own amused smile.  She knee-walked up the bed, letting my pulsating
erection brush lightly over her moist lower lips, but did not stop her
journey until she had placed them glistening over my mouth.  True to
my promise, I began to lick at her jewel as it protruded from her own
damp curls.  It was not long before she began to quiver to my tongue,
gasping with her building heat.  She gradually lowered herself down,
resting on my face with greater and greater pressure, forcing her
pleasure nub deeper in to my mouth.  I thought she had given herself
over to the pleasure and would stay until she came but even as her
shudders built toward a peak, she gasped and lifted abruptly away from
my lips.

	Working her way back down the bed, Kelly placed herself with
my pulsing sword poised at the entrance to her sheath.  Carefully
straddling my legs, she urged the tip to enter her moist tunnel.  Once
she had it on track, she slid down its length until it was fully
buried inside her.  Our eyes met as I silently congratulated her for
solving her problem, matching her triumphal grin with my own.  Kelly
began to bounce up and down, leaning forward enough to ensure full
contact between my towering sword and the jewel in her sheath.  In a
moment, she recovered the state of near release she had left at my
face and her breath began to strain in and out in tortured gasps.  My
own arousal had recovered as well and I was concentrating on control,
determined to last until her own climax.  Her motion became
progressively more violent until she was slamming down onto my hips
with her downstrokes, rebounding to full extension with the energy
returned from the bedsprings.  I could feel the pressure building in
my groin as her rapid motion drew my world into a tight ball, making
all but her actions vanish into non-existence.  With an uncontainable
groan, I felt myself explode into her, thrilled with the unbelievable
sensation yet distressed that I had been unable to wait for Kelly's
own release.  However, as a part of my consciousness expanded back to
encompass the world beyond my need I heard her shriek with the energy
of her own release as she collapsed onto my chest.

After some timeless interval she began to stir on my chest.  Her bound
arms prevented her from pushing herself up and my sword still
swallowed in her sheath prevented her from sliding down over her legs.
I was vaguely aware of her predicament as more of my consciousness
returned, and was about to help her up when she managed to get her
knees under her and sit back.

"Well, Milord," she returned to our previous game, "has Milady
Dewinter achieved the task you set out for her?"

"Yes," I agreed.  "I believe she has performed adequately.  I will
grant her reward."

"Adequately!" she shouted in pretend wrath.  "I'll give you
adequately!  Any more adequate and I'd put you in the hospital!"

"Promises, promises," I laughed, "all I get from women are promises."

"What women?" she demanded, wriggling her hips over my still-captured
cock.

"Thousands of women," I replied, " all of them you, in all your many
facets."

Grinning with joy at the compliment, she lifted herself off me and
moved to the edge of the bed.  In her bonds and high-heeled boots, she
captured both submission and dominance, demonstrating the entire range
of feminine capabilities.  I was almost reluctant to release her, but
knew it would not be our last opportunity to taste this particular
combination.



Chapter 10 - Ladies Night Out



	The next morning was a Friday.  As we dressed to go to the
club for our workout.  Kelly pulled her thong leotard on over her
tights then reached for her fanny pack instead of first putting on a
tee-shirt.  She grinned at me in acknowledgment of the correctness of
my previous prediction.

	"One of these days," she vowed, "we'll get you out from under
your tee-shirt as well."

	"I don't think so," I disagreed in disappointment.  "The
exercise and lost weight have done a good job on my love handles but
I'm always going to need a corset to get a good feminine shape."

	"I guess you're right," she agreed.  "We'll just have to get
you plenty of corsets, then."

	I smiled in agreement but couldn't help feeling a little
jealous of Kelly's spectacular figure.  Her weight loss had all been
in unnecessary areas and while she could stand to lose a little more
off her tummy, her magnificent bustline made most other places
irrelevant.

	"You know," she mused, "you still need an incentive for the
next ten pounds."

	"I haven't even gotten all of my outfits for the last
incentive, yet," I grinned.

	"I know," she said, "but you need to get a start on the next
one as well.  I have to admit your choices for my incentives have been
outstanding. . ."

	"Especially the last one," I interrupted with my own version
of the amused smile.

	"Yes," she admitted with a quick blush, then continued, "but
that just means I have to find one as good for you."

	"I can hardly wait . . . or is that weight as in pounds?" I
laughed.

	Kelly smiled at my weak pun, but maintained her thoughtful
expression as we headed for the club and all through our exercises.  I
waved as I left, finishing before her as usual, and she waved back in
a distracted fashion.

	That evening as I pulled into the drive, Billie Jo came
walking over with a package in her hands.  It was interesting to see
how our relationship had changed since I had become aware of the depth
of her interest in Kelly.  Now I was confident and she was
embarrassed.

	"Hello, Billie Jo, have you got something for us?"

	"Yes, another package came for you."

	Deciding this was the best time to broach the subject of
Kelly's third incentive, I casually commented, "I couldn't help
noticing your interest yesterday, in Kelly's . . . clothes."

	She nodded silently, but her cheeks heated with a rush of
blood.

	"Kelly has often mentioned how impressed she is with your
commitment to physical fitness," I continued.  "She respects that
greatly."

	Again, Billie Jo could only nod, not entirely sure where I was
heading.

	"Did Kelly ever tell you how she earned that new outfit you
were admiring?" I asked.

	"No," she finally said, curiosity at the purpose of my
conversation beginning to overcome her embarrassment.

	"For the last few months we've been on a weight loss program,"
I explained.

	"I could tell.  The results have been pretty impressive,"
Billie Jo interjected.

	"We decided our best success would come if we had near-term
incentives based on incremental savings.  That dress was Kelly's
reward for losing a second ten pounds and keeping it off."

	A light began to dawn in Billie Jo's eyes as she remembered
the changes she had noticed in my own attire during our evening walks.

	"A second ten pounds, you said?" Billie Jo invited me to
explain further.

	"Right, for the first ten pounds, she got some lingerie . . ,"
I paused for effect, " and a set of handcuffs."

	Billie Jo gasped as her blush returned, but I could see her
nipples pop up through her blouse.

	Continuing on before she had a chance to comment, I said, "and
we've already decided on her incentive for her third ten pound
increment."

	Her curiosity won over her renewed embarrassment and Billie Jo
asked, "What's that?"

	"You," I replied with a grin.

	"What?" she blurted, but her nipples popped up so hard I knew
they must hurt, and her breath froze in her throat.

	"You heard me," I confirmed.  "When Kelly loses another ten
pounds, we want you to come over for an evening of intimate
entertainment."

	"With you, also," she breathed, confusion rampant on her face.

	"If you want," I offered.  "I'll be there, but no one will do
anything they don't enjoy.  You might be surprised, though, at what we
enjoy, especially Kelly.  Think it over."

	This invitation to let her imagination run wild had the
desired effect.  After an instant's dreamy look confirmed a ready
fantasy, Billie Jo blushed hotter than ever and dropped her eyes.  She
seemed to have overcome the need to breathe, her heart locked in her
throat.  Nodding abruptly, she turned and fled back to her own house.
I wondered if her nod meant acceptance of the invitation or only that
she would think it over.  When Kelly arrived I decided not to tell her
about my conversation with Billie Jo, at least, not yet.  Kelly had a
package under her own arm, which she offered to me as I gave her the
one I had gotten from Billie Jo.

	In my package were two more corsets.  Both were identical in
style to my midnight blue one, but the first was the deep red of my
nightgown, while the other was in a pure, virginal white.  Holding
them up against my body, I realized they would be even tighter than my
first one, if fully pulled snug.  I was so distracted by my intimate
finery that I didn't notice the contents of the package that Kelly had
opened.  When I finally looked up to once again see Kelly's smug
smirk, I saw in Kelly's package a lacy blouse and a short denim skirt.
Instead of my usual midnight blue, the blouse was in the deep red
color she had decided set off "my" hair so well.  In the package were
also thin-strapped sandals, matching the blouse in color, but matching
my satin pumps in the height of the heel.

	Hurrying into the bedroom, I stripped off my outer clothes and
Kelly began my amazing transformation.  She laced me into the red
corset with no relaxation of her commitment to squeeze me tighter each
time.  Deciding that suntan stockings were more appropriate with
denim, she handed me a pair.  Once I was securely laced in and had my
stockings fastened to the garters, Kelly handed me the micro-miniskirt
and the nearly see-through blouse.  It was only as she was buttoning
the blouse that I realized it did not have a high collar.

	"What about my Adam's Apple?" I asked.

	"Got it covered," she punned as she held out a wide choker
neck band in red velvet.

	I reached for the choker but Kelly drew it back.  "Not until
after we do your makeup," she insisted.

	This time, in applying cosmetics to my face, Kelly explained
every step.  She would do one side and have me do the other.  Only
when she was sure that I understood what needed to be done would she
move on to the next color or item.  Her patience was rewarded by my
success in matching her creative style, though she had to explain some
of the elegant subtleties in careful detail.  When we were finally
done, she handed me the choker and brought out the lustrous waves of
the wig.  Again she explained every step in adjusting the fit, and in
pulling the flippant bangs into the correct position.  After this
intense training session I was confident I could reproduce the miracle
of my transformation . . . as long as I could remember everything that
is.

	I bent to wrap the sandal straps around my ankles, and was
brought up short by the stiff corset.

	"Kelly," I complained, "I can't do this."

	"Well," she grinned as she bent to complete the task, "I guess
I don't have to worry about you taking your shoes off when I'm not
around."

	"That's it!" she exclaimed with a burst of giggles.  "I know
your third incentive."

	"What?" I asked in confusion.

	"When you get your third ten pounds off, you're going to take
a vacation from your office."

	"Huh?" I glibly returned.

	"You're going to take a vacation.  For that time you will be
pure Brandy, total immersion.  We will take a vacation someplace where
no one knows you and you will be totally female to anyone we meet.  We
won't always be together, either.  Part of the time, you'll be Brandy
alone."

	The idea fascinated me as a snake fascinates a bird.  I knew
it was dangerous, but I couldn't turn away from the idea.  Discovery
was always a threat, but with Kelly to keep me out of trouble I had
accepted the idea that I could handle it.  Removing that safety
blanket was a dramatic step.  The blood pounded in my erection even
before the blush lit my face and it was clear I was hooked.  Then the
practical difficulties raised their ugly heads.

	"I can't even put on my corset by myself," I worried, "and I
don't have any ID or driver's license."

	"You let me worry about that," she reminded me of my words to
her.  "You just worry about losing the weight."

	She finished fastening my sandals, and I stood to look in the
mirror.  Brandy was back in all her undeniable beauty.  No one could
doubt that this gorgeous creature was a woman, sensual, mysterious in
some undefinable way, utterly desirable.

	"Wow," I gushed, "another success.  You're a genius!"

	Smiling in agreement, Kelly pulled out another pair of tight
silk gloves, in red this time, and handed them to me along with
earrings and other jewelry.

	"You finish putting these on while I change," she directed.

	Kelly had her own denim mini and high-heeled sandals, though
once again not as high as the ones she had inflicted on me.  She chose
a soft silk blouse rather than matching the lace I wore.  Handing me
her ice-blue corset, she turned for me to wrap it around her and lace
her in.  Revenge is sweet, I thought as I got back at her for the
tightness of my own constraining garment.  Chest heaving for breath,
Kelly grinned as she acknowledged my success and quickly finished
dressing.  She needed help with her own sandals which I could provide
since she could raise her feet into my reach.

	"We're going to have to put our shoes on before we complete
lacing our corsets, if we don't wear slip-on shoes," she observed.

	"What are you complaining about?" I teased her.  "This is
twice in a row you've gotten off with lower heels than me."

	"Oh," she grinned, "but you have a much better swing to your
hips.  You can wear them so much better than I can."

	I pretended to try and catch her to slap her for her
impudence, but she knew she was much more nimble in her heels than I
was in mine, so she danced away out of reach.  Then she came back into
my arms and we hugged, which was not nearly as much fun as normal
since the corsets armored our waists and we didn't dare smear our
makeup.  Laughing and giggling at all the implications of my
cross-dressing we strolled out of the house.

	"Where are we going, anyway?" I asked.

	"I figured we'd go back to the mall," she replied, "and then
get some dinner."

	"I have to try something," I decided, motioning Kelly to wait.

	Stepping carefully to keep my heels from disappearing into the
grass, I crossed from our driveway to Billie Jo's, and then approached
her door.  Ringing the bell, I held what little breath the corset let
me have in anticipation of Brandy meeting someone who also knew Ran.

	Billie Jo came to the door and asked normally, "Can I help
you?" before she really took a good look at the woman before her.  A
quizzical expression clouded her features as she began to wonder who I
was.  The transformation had been so effective that even though she
already suspected what had happened to Ran, she could not believe who
she thought I might be.

	"Hello," I softly sang in Brandy's musical contralto.  "I'm
Brandy Dewinter, Ran's sister.  Kelly and I are going shopping and
then to dinner.  Would you like to come along?"

	The sibling relationship I claimed was a credible enough
explanation for the similarity between Ran's features and Brandy's
that Billie Jo's doubts increased.  She looked at Kelly, dressed so
beautifully as well, and Billie Jo realized that she would be a poor
third in looks with her normal tee-shirt and shorts.  Surely, I could
almost hear her thinking, this gorgeous woman cannot be Ran!  She
started to shake her head in refusal.

	"Come on, Billie Jo, put on some sexy clothes and come with
us."

	This comment caused her jaw to drop, and surprise widened her
eyes, for I had deliberately delivered it in Ran's normal tenor.
Gulping air like a fish out of water, she stared at me in disbelief.

	"Please come with us," I entreated in Brandy's soft tones.  "I
would so like to get to know you better."

	I turned and motioned to Kelly to join us, wondering if her
close proximity would increase the intensity of Billie Jo's emotions
or help to get her back together.  Billie Jo continued to stare at me,
the message of her eyes contradicting the message her mind was trying
to assimilate.  When Kelly arrived, she looked at her, made up as
beautifully as on the previous night though in a more conventional
outfit than the leather dress and handcuffs.  She started to refuse
again.

	"I can't come with you.  You're . . both . . so beautiful,"
explained Billie Jo.

	"Kelly's a genius with cosmetics. You wouldn't believe what I
looked like before she helped me with my makeup," I whispered as
though sharing a deep secret.  "She can help you, too, if you want."

	"I've never really gone in for that sort of thing," Billie Jo
tried to deny her interest.

	"No time like the present to start," I insisted.

	I caught Kelly's eyes with mine and in the near-telepathy of
those who share their lives completely, I let her know my intentions.
We gently but firmly pulled Billie Jo from her doorway and took her to
our house.  Leading her into the bedroom, Kelly sat her down at the
vanity table, and I went into the closet to find Billie Jo some
clothes.

	"What size shoes to do you wear?" I called out.

	"6," Billie Jo replied with confusion.  She was beginning to
understand what we had in mind but was not sure how far we intended to
go.

	I wasn't sure what clothes to choose without my native guide.
Kelly's sense of style and color had demonstrated genius and I knew I
was not as capable.  However, I didn't want to lose the momentum we
were building in Billie Jo's transformation and Kelly couldn't be in
two places at once.  Finally, I decided to get the same outfit Kelly
had worn for Brandy's first outing.  Finding the black leather
mini-skirt and black lace blouse, I looked around for the spike-heeled
boots.  They were a size 6 1/2, so they would fit if we found some
heavy socks to pad Billie Jo's feet a little.  That reminded me about
underwear.  Billie Jo didn't really need a corset but she did need
appropriately erotic lingerie.  I found the garter belt Kelly had
given me and a clean pair of dark, seamed stockings.

	When I returned to the bedroom I could see that Kelly was well
on her way to another miracle.  Billie Jo's lean face was sharply
angular, too strong to be very feminine, though the clean lines and
high cheekbones offered a potential to build on.  Kelly had softened
the planes of Billie Jo's face rather than emphasizing them as she did
in her own makeup.  The result changed Billie Jo from lean strength to
refined elegance.  Since it was easier to work that way, Kelly had
turned Billie Jo away from the mirror.  As she finished she let Billie
Jo turn and look.  Her hands flew to her transformed face, prompting a
laugh from both Kelly and I.

	"When she first worked her magic on me," I explained, "she had
my hands bound behind the chair so I couldn't touch anything and screw
it up."

	The mention of bondage resurrected the hard points of Billie
Jo's nipples through her shirt.  I knew that her interest in that
aspect of a potential relationship with us would probably be the
deciding factor in her eventual acceptance of our invitation to
intimacy.  She realized that her reaction was showing, and then
noticed the clothes I held.  Her pleasure at the beauty she saw
reflected in the mirror gave her the last push she needed to embrace
the idea of going along with us, and she stood up with clear resolve.
Stripping off her shirt without embarrassment, she reached for the
black lace blouse.

	Kelly waved me back and said, "Wait a minute, Billie Jo, we
need to start with your underwear."

	I had been so fascinated by the change in Billie Jo that I had
not been paying adequate attention to Kelly.  Her face was flushed,
her breathing was ragged, and I would have bet her nipples were as
hard within her corset cups as Billie Jo's exposed ones were.  She was
clearly excited by the close proximity to a half-naked, beautiful
woman in a situation of sensuality not found in a girl's locker room.
Pointing at the sexless exercise shorts that hung on Billie Jo's
narrow hips, Kelly motioned her to remove them.  Under the shorts
Billie Jo had on plain white cotton panties.

	"Those just won't do," Kelly declared.  "Hmm, your hips are
too small for most of my underwear.  Let me see, I may have something,
though."

	Rummaging around in her drawers, Kelly extracted a
barely-there, sheer g-string with thin elastic that provided enough
flexibility to make it one size fits all.  She smiled and handed it to
Billie Jo, who looked at it with fascination but did not immediately
reach for it.

	"Come on, Billie Jo, you deserve it," I urged.

	I seemed to have hit on a magic word, for once Billie Jo began
to believe that she actually deserved to be pretty and sensuous, she
began to open up with more energy.  Of course, I had always believed
it was impossible to spend time within range of Kelly's effervescence
without being lifted up so perhaps my choice of words was not such a
major driver.  Whatever the reason, as Billie Jo reached for the
negligible g-string she began to grin and giggle along with Kelly and
I.  She stripped out of her cotton panties without self-consciousness
and I wondered if she had forgotten that there was a male in the room.
I wasn't about to remind her.  Though Kelly, with her flamboyant bust
fit my image of optimal female beauty much better than Billie Jo's
leanness, I was very much aware of the now-naked woman placing a sexy
g-string around her waist.  I turned away to hide my reaction, as much
from Kelly as from Billie Jo.  The tight thong I wore kept my package
hidden unless I was really aroused and a few seconds of thinking about
other things let me regain my control.  By the time I turned back,
Billie Jo had donned the garter belt and was fastening the garters to
the seamed stockings.  Deciding a bra was unnecessary with Billie Jo's
leaner figure, Kelly let her have the skirt and blouse and I handed
her some thick footlets I had found in Kelly's sock drawer.  In a few
minutes, Billie Jo was standing in Kelly's black high-heeled boots and
her transformation was almost complete.

	"Back to your house for some better earrings and jewelry, then
we go out," Kelly announced.

	Billie Jo had clearly not walked in high heels much and I was
about to give her some advice when Kelly waved me to silence.  In a
few more steps I saw what she had anticipated.  Billie Jo's naturally
athletic poise had soon given her a gliding grace.  She did not need
to swing her hips as dramatically as I did, though a gentle rhythm was
clearly apparent.  Instead, Billie Jo gracefully flowed from one foot
to the other with an elegance more in keeping with her lean face and
figure.

	"You know, if she let her hair grow out she'd be a knockout,"
I whispered to Kelly.  "Different from you, but really attractive in
her own way."

	Kelly's response was an embarrassed flush, showing that she
was not immune to the attractiveness of our transformed neighbor.  My
objective assessment of Billie Jo's new looks had a very subjective
counterpart in Kelly's building desire.

	We left our house and went next door.  In a few minutes Billie
Jo had changed her simple posts for glittering golden loops, shining
dramatically in contrast with her dark hair and clothes.  As we left
her house again, we looked at our choices for transportation.  My
pick-up was clearly out of the picture and climbing in and out of the
back of Kelly's Camaro was something I didn't want to try in such
dangerously short skirts.  The obvious choice was Billie Jo's car, a
four-door Taurus.  We got into the car, carefully placing our heels
together, sitting down, and then swinging our legs inside with an
almost choreographed sequence which launched new fits of giggling from
all of us.

	"Where are we going?" asked Billie Jo.

	"It's too late for shopping," Kelly mused.  "Let's just go get
dinner."

	Without further discussion Billie Jo drove to a restaurant
Kelly and I had never tried before.  She parked in the closest space
she could find and we extracted ourselves from the car.  I was gaining
in confidence, but moving into such a public place still made me
nervous.  I fidgeted with my skirt and my hair and found the others
moving off without me.  Not wanting to become obvious by calling out,
I hurried after them and almost stumbled on my tall heels.  I forced
myself to get a grip on my skills and concentrated on the swinging
gait I had learned.  By this time we were near the door and my
exaggerated sway contrasted with the smooth glide of Billie Jo and the
reduced motion allowed by Kelly's lower heels to make my entrance seem
deliberately provocative.  The other two watched my final approach.
Billie Jo's eyes widened again in surprise at the blatant sexuality
and Kelly giggled at both my motion and at Billie Jo's surprise.

	"She's shameless," Kelly whispered to Billie Jo.  "We ought to
follow along behind her handing out Kleenex to all the poor fools
drooling over that hot woman!  Or maybe ice water to cool off some of
these studs."

	The silver tones of her laugh carried through the entryway.  I
had been doing pretty well tonight in maintaining a cool, calm facade,
but when I became the focus of their laughter my always-close blush
resurrected itself.  I glance around to see if others were watching
and it seemed that every eye in the place was on us.  This fanned the
flames in my cheeks and I hissed at Kelly to be quiet, which only
increased their mirth.  By now, Billie Jo was thoroughly enjoying
herself, fully into the game of treating me as a woman, though always
aware of our shared secret.  The amused light shining from her eyes
lit up her elegant face into a more potent beauty than I had ever seen
in her.  In a moment the attractiveness of our threesome was
demonstrated literally, as men began to converge like iron to a set of
shapely magnets.

	It was interesting to see the types of men gravitating toward
us.  Billie Jo, with her restrained elegance, was the immediate focus
of an overpoweringly sensual stud, draped with gold chains that showed
against his furry chest through his unbuttoned shirt.  It seemed he
relished the challenge of thawing what he thought was an ice maiden.
Kelly's angelic smile drew a correspondingly nice looking man.  He had
a matching grin and approached with cheerful exuberance.  I reflected
on how lucky I was to have found and captured her since this man was
taller (as most men were), more fit, and more personable than I felt
myself to be.  Kelly could have had him at any time with little more
than a smile.  In fact, a small frown of jealousy must have shown on
my face for Kelly looked at me with another telepathic message of
reassurance.  I then found myself the target of a dark, heavily-built
man.  He smoldered with deep wells of masculinity, silently shouting
his power and his control.  I saw in him an exaggeration of the master
personality I wore when I bound Kelly to my will.  There was no trace
of the angel in him, nor in me.

	His approach was derailed when Kelly grabbed my hand, and
Billie Jo's and pulled us both with her to the powder room.  Billie Jo
looked at the sign on the door with arched brow and then at me, but
Kelly sailed on through.  I followed, though not without refreshing
the heat in my cheeks and the amused light sparkled from Billie Jo's
eyes.  Inside, Kelly motioned me to the counter, indicating that I was
to take care of any cosmetic repairs myself.  I quickly assessed the
minor damages, mostly a diminished lipstick shine, and proceeded to
set things right.  Now a measure of respect was added to the amusement
in Billie Jo's expression as she realized that I had learned feminine
skills even she did not possess.  Billie Jo glanced in the mirror and
was about to turn away when Kelly stopped her and made her replenish
her makeup to the uncompromising excellence Kelly demanded in her
creations.  Properly chastened, Billie Jo began to comply.

	"Did you see that stud that was after Brandy?" Kelly chortled.
"That man was not going to take no for an answer."

	Billie Jo stammered and added her own blush to the one flaming
my cheeks.

	"I think she was too occupied with her own conquest to pay
attention to anyone else," I teased.

	The heightened color in her cheeks confirmed my insight.
Kelly's tinkling mirth prodded at us both.  Through the mirror, I met
Billie Jo's eyes, and we smiled at each other in acceptance of Kelly's
jibes.  This wordless pact moved us into a warm sisterhood I had never
shared before.  My emotional ties with Kelly were rich and fulfilling,
but she was too cheerful and open for the sort of quiet depth I
suddenly felt with Billie Jo.  In Billie Jo's expression I saw a
change in her attitude toward me.  Previously, my cross-dressing
adventure was a joke we shared.  Now, she respected and honored this
facet of my personality and from that point I truly became Brandy to
her.

	Tossing my long hair into position, I made one last check and
declared myself ready to face the world.  Billie Jo smiled and nodded
concurrence and Kelly proudly led her creations back into the entryway
of the restaurant.  Before the stud patrol could again converge, our
table was called and we sauntered to our seats.  Kelly and I ordered
our usual salads and Billie Jo was about to do the same when we
stopped her.

	"Listen, you beautiful woman, you need to add a little shape
to maximize your potential.  Eat something with some delicious fat and
lots of protein," Kelly demanded.

	"Please do, we're so proud of you, but you could do with a few
more curves," I confirmed.

	She agreed to compromise with a small steak and baked potato,
loaded with creamy butter.  We jealously agreed with her selection,
resigning ourselves to perpetual constraints.  As we waited for our
dinners Kelly engaged Billie Jo in a conversation clearly designed for
its effect on me.

	"Did Brandy tell you about the hunk who was chasing her the
last time we were out?" Kelly opened.

	"No, tell me!" Billie Jo returned, pretending not to notice my
embarrassed hiss at Kelly.

	I ducked my head in an attempt to find some sort of oblivion,
but the liquid waves of my hair flowed down over my gloved hands in a
proclamation of sensuality.

	"See?" Kelly chortled. "She does it all the time.  She uses
that hair and her hips to get men's attention constantly.  Then she'll
put on some helpless act and get guys to hold a door for her, or help
her to stand.  Like I told you, she's shameless."

	I felt my burning cheeks would set my long wavy tresses on
fire at any moment, but Kelly continued relentlessly.

	"The last time we were out I went to the bathroom and when I
returned this incredible hunk was sitting with her.  She was flirting
madly and he was hooked like a trout.  That stud would have had her
right there on the barstool if I hadn't come back."

	"Ooh, tell me more, what happened next?" cooed Billie Jo.

	"Her stud bought us dinner.  Of course, I was just window
dressing.  He probably only noticed I was there when he realized there
were three meals on the check."

	By this time Billie Jo was rocking with mirth, trying to
contain her helpless laughter.  Tears were filling her eyes and I was
sure she only kept them in check because of the damage they would do
to her makeup.  I looked daggers at Kelly, who preened invincibly,
knowing there was just enough truth in her tall tale to make denial
too complicated to be practical.  Then she dropped the bomb she had
obviously been leading up to.

	"By the way, Brandy, did I tell you he called the other day?"

	"No! He didn't either!  When?" I gasped, not sure whether to
want her to be telling the truth or lying outrageously.

	"Yep," she smirked.  "It was a couple of nights ago.  He was
barely able to contain his disappointment at not finding you home.
Apparently, he was going out of town for a few weeks and wouldn't be
able to get back with you.  He wanted to be sure you knew it wasn't
due to lack of interest."

	My head had come up at her incredible tale, sending additional
waves flowing through my lustrous mane.  This prompted Kelly to poke
Billie Jo in the ribs and point, first at me, then at the interested
glances of an obviously married man at the next table.  Billie Jo was
reduced to shaking quivers as she tried to hold in her laughter.

	All through our dinner Kelly embellished on her tale of Dart
Tanyon and the parking valet.  I countered with a description of the
crowd of rescuers Kelly had attracted in her tight leather mini-dress
and high boots.  Together, we sounded like a pair guilty of inciting
to riot and if it wasn't entirely true, there was still enough
validity to it to make us blush or giggle as we alternated our
stories.  Somewhere in the rendition the flames of embarrassment
burned away and I started being proud of my effect on men.  I resolved
never to make a promise I obviously couldn't keep, but I also resolved
to have fun.  If a thing is worth doing, I rationalized, it is worth
doing well.

	I had invited Billie Jo along on a lark, mostly to see what
effect Brandy would have on someone who knew Ran.  By the time we
finished our meals we had formed a friendship with her that would
endure long beyond an evening's fun.  We were still giggling and
teasing as we walked to the car.  My towering heels forced me to the
shortest stride and Kelly drifted slowly ahead.  Billie Jo held up to
wait for me and as I reached her she whispered, "Let me know when
Kelly reaches her next ten pound goal."  The warmth of her smile made
it clear she expected me to be an active participant in that evening's
promised entertainment as well.



Chapter 11 - A True Identity



	The next day was Saturday and Kelly and I were home when yet
another package arrived.  In it were the items for my remaining
incentive outfit, women's business attire.  Kelly had chosen a deep
blue color with a delicate pinstripe in a lightweight wool material
for the suit.  The blouse was a paler blue, loaded with ruffles at
breast, collar and wrists.  The only feature of the suit that was out
of the ordinary was the abbreviated skirt, not much if any longer than
the other outfits Kelly had selected.  A pair of black leather pumps
in the package maintained the towering standard in heel that Kelly had
established as well.  Even though it was early in the day, barely
after noon, Kelly suggested we get dressed immediately and go
shopping.  Nodding happily, I went to the bedroom to start the process
when I noticed that Kelly had disappeared.  I began to take off the
comfortable sweats I had started the day with, wondering where she had
gone.  Just about the time I got down to the tightly-stretched thong
bikini, Kelly came walking in with Billie Jo!  Billie Jo let out a
good-natured wolf whistle, proving that though I had overcome my
perpetual embarrassment at Brandy's effect on men, I could still blush
when notified of Ran's effect on women.

	"I invited Billie Jo to come shopping with us since she needs
a more feminine wardrobe," Kelly explained.  "I also thought it would
be interesting for her to see Brandy's full transformation."

	"Goodness, you have lost weight," Billie Jo added.
"Congratulations."

	I nodded, still a bit embarrassed at the situation.  I knew
that once I was fully dressed as Brandy I was credibly female, but in
transition I wondered if Billie Jo would think I looked ridiculous, or
worse, pathetic.  Kelly's normal exuberance precluded all negative
reflections.  In a moment, she had brought out the white corset and
was wrapping it around my waist.  She had me show Billie Jo the
silicone breast forms as she began to work on the laces.  When they
started getting tight, she had me hold the bedpost, then called Billie
Jo to her side.

	"Here, you pull them tight," she offered with a twinkle in her
eye.  "He always does me tighter, because he's stronger than I am.
See if you can get me a bit of revenge."

	Rising to the challenge, Billie Jo showed the effects of a
lifetime commitment to exercise.  I had always thought that Kelly had
pulled me as tight as it was possible for my body to go, but in no
time Billie Jo was forcing my waist in an unbelievable amount.  Kelly
cheered her on until finally Billie Jo tied off the ends and brushed
back from her face a lock of hair that had fallen in her exertions.
She was breathing almost as hard as I was, though she recovered much
more quickly without a corset's constrictions.  Kelly had me solo on
my makeup, though she stood ready to catch any mistakes.  Cosmetics
went okay, but I needed a little help with the wig in order to get a
few ends out from under the cap where they had stuck.  It was clear
that I would soon be able to handle all aspects of the transformation
except for the corset, which still required external help.  I pulled
on dark, seamed stockings, then the blouse and the skirt.  As I
stepped into the heels I reached for the jacket to the suit, noting
that it was double-breasted.

	Kelly laughed as I buttoned it on, "Let's see, double-breasted
jacket, breast forms, and Ran under it all.  Does that make
four-breasted or six?"

	Kelly handed me a pair of tight kidskin gloves and went to the
closet to search for a business suit of her own.  In a moment, she
came back, carrying suit, heels and pantyhose.

	"Wait a minute," I protested.  "What about your corset?  And
those aren't very high heels."

	"Tough luck," Kelly returned unsympathetically.  "My corset is
in the laundry and for this outfit you have to take what I already
had.  I guess today you'll just have to be the prettiest."

	I realized that she was a bit disappointed as well and decided
Billie Jo might not be the only one buying new clothes today.  She
quickly dressed in her neat business suit and then refreshed her
makeup.  Billie Jo's outfit was also a suit, though of plainer style
and longer skirt, so Kelly just had her remove the jacket and blouse
for a moment to apply the appropriate cosmetics and then we were all
ready to go.

	We went in Billie Jo's Taurus again as the only logical choice
and were soon window shopping in an upscale mall.  This time, I was
clearly the most glamorously dressed and attracted a lion's (or
lioness's) share of the attention.  Not all the attention was
favorable, as the clothing shops of the mall were populated with a
higher proportion of women than men and many of the women were
obviously jealous.  My internal transformation from embarrassment to
pride at men's attention was more than enough armor to keep the
jealous glares from reaching me and I felt pride at that success as
well.

	We spent the afternoon gathering a variety of wardrobe items
for Billie Jo who needed as fresh a start as Brandy had recently
required.  Tightly restrictive corsets were not of much use with her
lean, hard body, but sheer wisps of bras, panties, and garter belts in
a variety of colors soon promised to make her cotton underwear most
useful for cleaning rags.  Tight, short skirts, lacy feminine blouses,
and tall, tall heels completed her immediate clothing needs.  Then she
found a leather dress with a short enough skirt to match my
abbreviated suit.  She quickly purchased it, promising to change from
her plain suit so that she wouldn't draw down the image we three
presented.  After we found appropriate accessories to complete a few
outfits we went back to one of the better clothing stores so that
Billie Jo could use a dressing room to change.  In a short while,
Billie Jo had climbed back onto the pedestal of elegance she had
achieved the previous night and Kelly was clearly feeling third best
among us.  She had ordered a new suit with a shorter skirt at one of
the stores we had visited, but the alterations would take a few days,
so she had no new clothes herself.

	"I should have worn my own leather dress," she grumbled.  "I
don't need a corset with it."

	"Oh you're beautiful," we consoled her, though she was right.
Before Billie Jo changed clothes, Kelly and I had not seemed badly
matched.  Now Kelly's outfit, while sharp and professional, was not
going to draw her share of the stud patrol she had proudly attracted
before.

	"Maybe we should have put a suit on the list for your second
incentive prize.  You'll have a new one as soon as it's ready, though.

	At that remark, Kelly glanced at Billie Jo and I remembered I
had not told her about my conversation with Billie Jo about Kelly's
third incentive prize.  Realizing she had not figured out how to
address the issue of Brandy's ID cards for my third incentive, Kelly
began to sulk even more.  The contrast with her usual cheerful glow
drew all of us into gloom.  I shook myself out of it and stood still
for a moment.

	"Cheer up, you little twerp," I commanded.  "Here you are
surrounded by sisters who are a living testament to your genius with
clothes and makeup.  When we go out, you're the one that attracts the
only guy that looks like he's interested in more than just a one-night
stand.  Right now, Billie Jo and I are getting icy glares from all the
women who are jealous and you're getting the best service.  Save your
sexpot image for when there are men around.  You don't have anything
to worry about."

	The smile and hug I gave her took all the heat from my words,
and she grinned up in recognition of my correct perspective on the
situation.  She hugged me back.  Then I could see worry about her part
of my third prize resurrect, though this time with determination to
overcome.  She began to pull us toward the lingerie store where she
had purchased my extra corsets.  As I had called to her attention, she
had been getting the best service and soon she had the sales girl
following her around, helping her pick out additional designs for her
to wear when her ice-blue one was in the wash.  Then she asked the
girl if the store had any similar designs, but with laces in front.

	"Why do you want one like that?" Billie Jo whispered.  "Half
the fun of dressing Brandy is pulling her waist in."

	"It's for her third incentive prize," Kelly blurted.  Then she
realized that she was talking to her own third incentive prize, if I
could make good on my promise.  She blushed furiously and looked away.
Billie Jo realized that Kelly was unsure of her reception, which
implied that I had not passed along the conclusion of our agreement.

	"Didn't you tell her what I told you?" Billie Jo asked me.

	"Didn't she tell who about what?" Kelly demanded.

	I held up my gloved hands in a gesture for silence, then
replied, "Wait a minute, this conversation is getting too convoluted,
let me start at the beginning."

	"Kelly, I haven't told you, yet, but I asked Billie Jo to
participate in your third incentive."

	"Did she agree?" Kelly asked breathlessly, afraid to look at
Billie Jo.

	"Yes," Billie Jo answered with a smile, the flush on her own
cheeks a mere shadow of the one Kelly displayed, but still evident.
Through the thin material of Billie Jo's new dress, her nipples
proclaimed her enthusiasm for the idea.  Kelly, looking at Billie Jo
as she answered the question, noticed the evidence.  Her smile
regained its normal high-watt intensity.

	"Did Brandy tell you her own third incentive?" Kelly asked
Billie Jo.

	"No, what is it?"

	Kelly explained her total immersion plan for me, including
solo adventures.

	"That's why we have to get some corsets she can get dressed in
herself.  But I have a problem, Brandy will need a driver's license
when she's alone.  We really ought to get her some credit cards and
maybe other ID as well.  We can get the clothes easily enough, though
she will never lace herself as tightly as you did," Kelly continued
with a smile, "but I don't know how to get her some ID."

	Billie Jo's answering smile showed a deeper pleasure than the
gentle amusement she habitually wore.

	"Do you know what I do for a living?" Billie Jo asked.

	"No," we replied in chorus, curiosity building.

	"I'm in charge of the local driver's license bureau," she
grinned.  "I may be able to help you with your problem.  Get your
things and we'll go see."

	Kelly quickly picked out three new corsets, closely matching
my current style except that they laced in front, and had the sales
girl total up the purchases.  I reflected on the clothes we had
acquired in the last couple of months and was glad Kelly's salary
approached my own commission income.  We gathered up our packages and
left for the car.  Billie Jo drove us to the license bureau, closed at
this time on a Saturday afternoon, and let us in the door with her
key.  In a few minutes I had a fresh new license made out to Brandy
R. Dewinter, my height, the weight I would be when I reached my third
incentive, and the crucially important sex block marked with an F
instead of an M.  I carefully placed it in my purse, wanting to caress
it for the excitement it signified.

	"I can't imagine how to thank you," I beamed.  "Will you get
in trouble for this?"

	"Not if you don't kill somebody.  Carry your other license
with you and if you get in an accident use it.  You'll have a lot of
explaining to do, but that's the risk you take.  For ordinary
identification, use this one.  Besides, yesterday at this time I was
moping in my house wondering where my life was going.  In just one day
you have opened a whole new world to me.  I owe you more than a simple
piece of laminated plastic."

	"You only owe us your friendship," I asserted.

	"Same thing," Billie Jo replied with a grin that transformed
her angularly elegant face.

	We quickly left the bureau and carrying all our packages home,
we completed our shopping adventure.



Chapter 12 - Kelly's Triumph



	By this time I had significantly reduced my body fat
percentage.  I was no longer portly and my abdomen was showing muscle
ridges I had never had before.  Getting the remaining ten pounds off
was a serious challenge and my weight seemed to creep downward with
glacial slowness, but I was determined to succeed.  I had to know if I
could pass an extended test as Brandy, including solo.

	Kelly had started with lower total weight, but had probably
had at least as much fat in her cherubic figure.  Even after her
second ten pounds she had a visible tummy bulge which demonstrated an
opportunity she was quick to take advantage of.  We worked out every
morning and walked most evenings, joined now by Billie Jo.  Despite my
best intentions, I was still three pounds from my goal when Kelly
pointed at the reading on the scale as she weighed.

	"Guess what," she gloated.

	"I can see," I grumped, but I was truly happy for her success.
Now that she had earned her goal, it remained to me to deliver on my
promise.  I had clearly picked up on Billie Jo's excitement at bondage
and knew that it should be part of the evening.  Full bondage was so
intense that Kelly could literally not stand it every time we made
love.  She was always willing, but most evenings after our walk I used
the bungees only for their steady tension.  I did, however, often
leave her stretched for a while after I completed her massage to let
her back and arms gently relax.  Often I would bring her a glass of
wine and help her sip it while still stretched, but then I would
release her without arousing her sexually.  If we chose to combine sex
with bondage, usually she only wore handcuffs, perhaps with a
blindfold.  Her special reward evening, though, would clearly warrant
the full treatment.  However, I didn't want a one-dimensional evening
so I decided to plan on several activities.

	Friday afternoon I suggested we go for our walk a little early
while it was still light enough to have been a real problem for me
just a short while before.  Though I was not fully dressed as Brandy
and would therefore be exposing a potential embarrassment for Ran, I
walked with Kelly and Billie Jo in casual acceptance of my attire, not
particularly concerned with what others might think.  Nonetheless, we
moved out briskly and none of the neighbors showed any unusual
interest.  I decided they had already recognized my eccentricity and
accepted it, or did not notice.  We completed our circuit in normal
time and returned home.  With a quiet look I warned Billie Jo to be
ready for my signal, then went with Kelly into our house.

	I began my attentive rubdown on her back and when I reached
the slim band of her thong, she lifted her hips of her own volition.
I stripped the thong off of her and she was fully nude.  I resolved
not to let her know anything unusual was about until she was fully
committed so I continued normally until it was time for her to turn
over.  Stretching her into the bondage of the wrist and ankle bands
was now our normal habit as well and the first sign of anything
different was when I placed the silk scarf around her eyes.

	"This is different," she commented, in no way worried or
nervous.

	"To help you relax," I explained, "just let yourself go."

	I continued with my careful attention.  As I thought might
happen, Kelly drifted off to sleep and began to snore softly with a
small, furry sound.  Since I knew that these stretching massages
really were good for her, I continued to the end and left her
stretched and bound as was our frequent practice.  I got off the bed
carefully, but she roused enough to ask where I was going.  I said not
to worry, but she had drifted off again before she heard my answer.
Walking through the house, I turned on a kitchen light that Billie Jo
could see from her house.  When she noticed the signal, she ran
quickly to our house dressed in a long tee-shirt.  As she removed her
tee-shirt I could see she wore only the nearly-transparent g-string we
had provided to her on the evening she had met Brandy.

	I had noted earlier that Kelly seemed interested in
transforming me into something approaching the lean hardness
demonstrated by Billie Jo's trim body.  The weight I had lost and the
exercise regimen we followed had brought me far enough that I had
decided that Kelly might not be able to tell us apart as we moved on
the bed, if her eyes were covered.  That formed the basis for my plan,
which was to have Billie Jo impersonate me for as long as possible
until Kelly noticed the substitution.  Billie Jo had been briefed on
my normal technique so she could follow the general trend.  In
specifics, she was free to follow her own desires which should keep
Kelly guessing for as long as possible.

	I had explained what she would see in our bedroom but the
sight of Kelly stretched tightly to the four corners of our bed,
blindfolded but sleeping in total acceptance of another's control over
her body, brought a raging hardness to Billie Jo's exposed nipples.
Though Kelly slept on, I could already smell the pungent fragrance of
Billie Jo's arousal.  I caught quietly at the strap of her g-string to
indicate she should remove it.

	Billie Jo pulled her g-string down, then paused as her eyes
fell on my bulging thong.  Before when she had stripped in my
presence, I had been Brandy, not Ran, and she had not really
considered the implications of differences hidden behind Brandy's
skirts.  Smiling in acceptance of her commitment and of trust in the
person inside my skin however clothed or unclothed, she stepped out of
her g-string and moved to the bed.

	As she moved her weight onto the bed, Kelly roused and yawned,
"Is it time to get up?  This feels so good I must have fallen asleep."

	I had moved over when Billie Jo did, so I leaned beside her
and said, "No, not yet, I think you deserve a little reward for being
so beautiful."

	Smiling at the implications of this announcement, Kelly's
nipples stood to quick attention.  She enjoyed these sessions as much
as I did and her training was far enough along that her body's
responses were immediate.  Billie Jo leaned forward and gently blew on
one of Kelly's erect nipples, causing the first small shudder to
vibrate through Kelly's body.  Following her warm breath with her warm
and moist tongue, Billie Jo began to wash Kelly's nipples until they
glistened brightly.  She then wrapped each nipple in turn in her full
lips and sucked it to an even higher state of extension.  Kelly moaned
in pleasure.

	"You've never done it quite like that before.  It feels so
good!" Kelly praised.

	Billie Jo positioned herself between Kelly's legs, and
repeated the basic process of soft breath, soft and moist tongue, and
firm sucking only now the target of her attention was Kelly's pulsing
jewel.  Kelly's moans increased in intensity, and the shudders
wracking her body began to build on themselves as the energy she would
normally expend in large motions could find no outlet except rapid
internal vibrations.

	"OH!" she exclaimed, "that feels so good!  What are you doing
differently?  Oh, ah, AH, where did you learn that?"

	I could see the smile in Billie Jo's eyes at this confirmation
of the effectiveness of her technique, and of the novelty.  Soon
Kelly's body was humming to the first climax of the evening.  As she
subsided, I nodded to Billie Jo that it was probably time to spring
our little secret.  She knee-walked up to the head of the bed and
Kelly licked her lips in anticipation of a taste of my cock.  The
aroma of Kelly's arousal had swamped the pungent smell from Billie Jo
so Kelly's nose provided no clue to her upcoming adventure.  When
Billie Jo was positioned over Kelly's head, she started to lower
herself to Kelly's searching lips.  At the first touch of her lower
lips to Kelly's moist mouth, Kelly froze, she tugged briefly at her
bonds, forgetting their inescapability, and tossed her head as she
tried to remove her blindfold.  Without giving her time or space to
speak, Billie Jo lowered herself further to engulf Kelly's mouth and
waited for Kelly's next move.

	It was not long in coming.  Soon I could see the muscles of
Kelly's jaw move as she began licking and sucking at Billie Jo's
dripping pleasure nub.  Kelly's nipples, visible behind Billie Jo's
trim ass, showed by their rigid hardness the excitement Kelly was
feeling.  Her enthusiasm caused similar excitement to show on Billie
Jo's nipples as well, confirmed by a building flush and gasping
breath.  As Billie Jo's arousal built to her own first climax, she
forced herself to concentrate long enough to nod to me before
surrendering to the building energy within her.

	I moved on to the bed behind Billie Jo and positioned my
massive erection at the liquid entrance to Kelly's tunnel of love.
I'm not sure that Kelly noticed my extra weight on the bed, she was so
caught up in her labors on Billie Jo, but she definitely noticed when
I plunged into her.  I slid without pause to the hilt, stopping only
when I had penetrated her fully.  The shock caused an immediate orgasm
to pulse through Kelly.

	Billie Jo raised up with a shout, "She bit me!"

	Kelly moaned in distraction, "Come back.  I'm sorry.  I
couldn't help it, but I'll make it up to you."

	I grinned at Billie Jo's distress and waved her back into
position.  Her answering grin betrayed her appreciation of the humor
of the situation and she was soon riding Kelly's face again.  I began
to thrust into Kelly, trying to find a rhythm compatible with the
small bounce Billie Jo had started.  It was only a short time longer
that Billie Jo gasped and froze for a moment as her own first orgasm
broke through her body.  Kelly continued the tender motions of her
tongue and lips, but Billie Jo raised up off her face though Kelly
strained to recapture her.  I thought Billie Jo had had enough, but
she surprised me by turning around and lowering herself again.  Now
Billie Jo faced me as I held myself up on my arms and stroked in and
out of Kelly's tight receptacle.  Billie Jo leaned forward to kiss me
gently.  I returned her kiss with more energy as my own excitement
increased.  My arms were busy supporting my body and Kelly's were
stretched to the corners of the bed so Billie Jo began to caress her
own nipples as she rode Kelly's face.  Soon I could feel the tension
in Kelly's muscles that warned of her building pressure.  I increased
the force and pace of my strokes, simultaneously sucking on Billie
Jo's tongue with frantic fervor.  Kelly's vibrating muscles clamped my
cock with undeniable energy, and I did not deny it.  My own juices
pulsed into her, driven by my pounding hips.  Somehow, Kelly managed
to continue her stimulation of Billie Jo and even as Kelly's scream of
release was smothered by Billie Jo's moist folds, Billie Jo gasped her
own passion into my lips.

	I never could remember what happened next after that
incredible explosion.  When I could think rationally again I was
collapsed on Kelly's chest.  Billie Jo was lying next to me, fallen
forward enough to clear Kelly's breathing, and Kelly was panting
softly in her bondage, eyes closed.  I withdrew from Kelly's liquid
embrace and moved to the bathroom to clean up.  Billie Jo stirred on
the bed as I returned and after she moved off I gently undid the
bungees holding Kelly.  She smiled a languid smile and lifted her arms
to my embrace.  Pulling her to me, I smiled at Billie Jo and motioned
her to a space on the other side of Kelly, to join with us in a warm,
post-coital cooldown period.

	"That was incredible," Kelly whispered.  She looked at Billie
Jo and said, "Someday, if you're incredibly lucky you might find
someone to spoil you as much as Ran spoils me.  Thank you for joining
us."

	"It was literally my pleasure," Billie Jo smiled back, but the
idea that Kelly had been more favored by our actions caused a
thoughtful look to linger on Billie Jo's face.

	"Does she do this to you?" Billie Jo asked me.

	"No, she has only bound my arms once, for a short while, and
never while we made love."

	"Have you ever wanted me to?"  Kelly asked, surprised at the
suggestion, and also that she had never thought of it herself.

	"I never really thought of it.  Of course I trust you enough
to try anything you ask, but I've been so focused on your pleasure
that I never much worry about mine.  It takes care of itself in
pleasing you."

	"Would you like to try it?" Kelly persisted.

	I considered for a moment.  I had always known that Kelly had
the real slave personality and would be the one to benefit most from
bondage.  I was not as comfortable totally surrendering control.  I
looked at Billie Jo, realizing that whatever decision I made would
involve her as well.  Finally I nodded.  I would try this experience
from the other perspective.

	The women moved aside and I lay back stretching my arms and
legs to the corner posts of the bed.  Kelly started on my legs,
attaching each ankle restraint in turn and then pulling the bungees to
the attached rings.  Billie Jo studied the cuffs and was soon placing
them around my wrists.  In a few minutes, I was stretched tautly to
the corners of the bed.  My own personality was not as excited by
bondage and my cock remained flaccid as I explored the limits of
available motion and relaxed into the gentle tugging on my back.  It
was really pretty comfortable.  There was a gleam in Billie Jo's eyes
I had not seen before and I looked at her quizzically.  Kelly had not
noticed and was looking for the massage oil.

	"You want to help?" she asked Billie Jo.

	Nodding, Billie Jo placed herself on one side, as Kelly moved
to the other.  They passed the bottle of oil back and forth as they
massaged it into my arms and legs, then met at the middle on my chest.
As time passed I relaxed even further, leaning my head back and
closing my eyes.  As the muscle massage drew to a close, I felt
graceful fingers lightly twirling the short hairs at the base of my
cock that were all that remained of my body hair.  I opened my eyes to
see not Kelly, but Billie Jo playfully teasing my building erection.

	"I have a confession to make," she said dreamily, not looking
directly at either one of us.

	I raised an eyebrow, about the only motion I could make, and
Kelly made a questioning noise of encouragement.

	"I've never been with a man before," Billie Jo declared.  "I
have used women and been used by them for purely physical pleasure,
but I was always frightened of being hurt by a man.  My mother died
giving me birth and all I had were brothers, so I grew up as a
rough-and-tumble tomboy.  All I remember, from before they started
covering up around me, was how enormous a man's tool seemed to me as a
small girl and I was always afraid of men.  This is the first time
I've seen a man's full erection since I was a child.  I read up on
enough of Masters and Johnson to know that Ran, here, is better than
average size, but seeing him stroke lovingly into you makes his cock
seem less frightening somehow."

	"Kelly, would you mind if I tried him out?"

	It was interesting that she didn't ask me.  It seemed that
part of the reduction in her fear was due to the fact that she knew I
could neither force nor refuse her actions or her pace, only Kelly
could consent to her request.  By now, her gentle caresses had
resurrected my fallen soldier to new life, though without pounding
need as yet.  I looked at Kelly as well, my raised eyebrow now
directed at her, a smile of acceptance on my face.  I would not
attempt to influence her decision.  Billie Jo was pretty enough and we
were close enough that I expected to enjoy the experience.  But I had
always been true to Kelly and she knew it.  It would take her consent
before I would ever willingly couple with another woman.  Perhaps
Billie Jo was sensitive enough to recognize this aspect of my
relationship with Kelly and so had directed her question to the right
place after all.  Kelly looked at me to see if I was trying to tell
her anything and then nodded recognition of my acceptance of her right
to make this decision.

	In answer, Kelly leaned across and kissed Billie Jo lightly
but firmly on her trembling lips.  She smiled as she moved back to the
edge of the bed and swept her arm over my outstretched body in
invitation.  Now that she had received the permission she had sought,
Billie Jo became more tentative, stopping her gentle stroking.  She
looked at me and seemed to wonder where to begin.  Kelly sat back with
our traditional amused smile, ready to help but not intruding.
Finally Billie Jo admitted her need.

	"What should I do?  What do you enjoy most?  I don't want to
waste it."

	"He's not quite ancient and decrepit enough to die after only
one more time tonight," Kelly laughed.  "Take your best shot.  If it's
not all you want, he'll service you again in a little while."

	Her comments were not threatening, of course, but they did
betray Kelly's basic misunderstanding of the responsibilities of being
a loving master, or in this case mistress.  I had never treated her as
a tool to be used in any way.  Her bondage was for her pleasure, to
allow her total release.  I was not worried, but it was clear that our
present arrangement would not replace our normal approach where Kelly
was the one in bondage.  Nonetheless, I trusted both women to exercise
due care in their authority over my body so I remained relaxed as I
waited for things to develop.

	After an additional moment's thought, Kelly continued, "If you
want a suggestion, though, you ought to try the things you can only do
with a man.  Suck him to the fullest erection you can get, then ride
him.  I really enjoy both of those."

	I could see by the gulp that showed in Billie Jo's throat that
she had not thought about fellatio.  A small frown appeared as a
crease in her forehead.  Kelly noticed it too, and grinned as she
moved between my legs.

	"I can see you need a little instruction.  Don't worry about
taking it all down at once, use plenty of tongue inside and out, and
try and keep your teeth clear.  Slow on the downstroke until you get
your throat reflexes in order, and all the suction you can manage."

	Kelly proceeded to demonstrate her wonderfully effective
technique.  She deliberately used the same steps as Billie Jo had
previously used on her.  First she blew warmly on the tip, smiling at
the responsive pulse which reflected the shudder she remembered from
her own recent experience.  Then she started washing my cock from tip
to base with her warm and moist tongue.  When it was glistening wetly,
she took the head in her mouth and proceeded to stroke up and down.
At one point she stopped and lifted her head.

	"I'm using my tongue inside to vibrate against any place I can
reach," she explained.

	She resumed her up and down motion, gradually taking in more
and more.  The hollowness of her cheeks demonstrated her strong
suction pressure, and I began to feel pressure in my balls as they
readied their response to the call from her mouth.  She was lost in
her demonstration and didn't notice the sweat beading my forehead as I
struggled to maintain control.  All at once she sat back with an
embarrassed grin, provoking a breathless groan from me.

	"I told you I enjoyed doing that.  I think he tastes good and
I like the texture.  I guess in part I also find fulfillment in
meeting the challenge.  It takes practice to do it right.  You know, I
always figured it was better than licking a lady.  Now, thanks to you,
I know that's true.  I don't mind lady-licking at all, in fact I enjoy
it, but man-swallowing is the best."

	She moved out of the way, inviting Billie Jo to take her
place.  She was admittedly a novice, but Kelly's enthusiasm was
infectious, and she moved into position with interested curiosity.
Bending down, she also let her warm breath flow onto my cock, now
glistening with moisture from Kelly's mouth.  Again the reflexive
pulse showed itself, and Billie Jo grinned at this proof of her
effect.  She began to lick gently at the tip, causing repeated
pulsations to move her target around.

	"Don't just dab at it," Kelly instructed.  "Give it a good
lick."

	Billie Jo demonstrated her aptness as a pupil, soon delivering
an enthusiastic tongue wash to everything she could reach.  Before she
moved to the next step, she smiled and said, "You're right about the
taste and texture.  I like it."

	Licking her glossy lips she stretched her mouth wide and
surrounded the head of my cock.  As she closed her lips about it, her
teeth gently touched the skin of my shaft.  Her mouth flew open and
her head back.

	"Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

	"Don't be," I said, breaking my long silence.  "Gentle touches
add a little variety to the feeling.  Just do your best."

	She resumed her cautious approach.  Soon she was bobbing
gingerly, taking only a little in her mouth.  Once she bobbed too
deeply and triggered her throat reflex, causing her to pull back.
Kelly smiled encouragement and motioned her to continue.  Billie Jo
started once again, finally adding suction to her motion.  Eventually
she developed a comfortable rhythm which began to have its desired
effect.  The beads of sweat returned to my brow and I felt the
pressure in my balls again.  Billie Jo had become oblivious to the
body attached to the cock she was tasting, but Kelly noticed the
tell-tale signs of pressure and pulled gently at Billie Jo's shoulder.

	"You better stop unless you want to really taste his come.  I
enjoy that too, but that hard-on is too valuable to spend that way if
you've never ridden a cock before."

	Billie Jo sat back and looked at the tower she had created.
You could see the concern in her eyes about whether that massive shaft
would fit inside her virgin receptacle.

	"Don't worry, honey," Kelly comforted her.  "It may hurt at
first, but that will pass and then, well, you saw what it did to me.
Like I said, lady-licking is fun from either side, but man swallowing
is the best.  Let your lower mouth take you where you need to go.  Oh,
by the way, you better check yourself for flow.  You need to be well
lubricated, especially for your first time."

	Billie Jo let a tentative hand creep between her legs, and
brought out her fingers dripping wet.  She giggled slightly at this
indication of her arousal, the first real sign of lessening tension.
She moved to straddle me like she had earlier straddled Kelly's face.

	"Here, let me help," Kelly offered.

	Taking the shaft of my cock in her hand, Kelly positioned it
at the entrance to Billie Jo's dripping tunnel.  Kelly placed her
other hand on Billie Jo's shoulder and slowly urged her to lower
herself onto my shaft.  She was almost painfully tight, due mostly to
her tension, and I concentrated on patience as she impaled herself an
inch at a time onto my raging erection.  At first her face betrayed
her own pain, a grimace distorting her elegant features.  By the time
she was halfway impaled, however, her face relaxed as did her
clenching muscles and pleasure began to light her smile.  When she
reached the base of my shaft she rested for a moment, though I could
feel muscles pulsing internally.  Kelly sat back and encouraged her
with a smile to take it at her own pace.  Billie Jo slowly moved up
until the head was nearly exposed, then lowered herself again, picking
up her pace.  Her smile began to grow into a wild grin, lighting her
eyes with a joy she had never imagined.  She began to bounce up and
down with desperate rapidity, trying to extend the building energy
into impossible heights instantly.  I could only hope she would be
successful, since the results would soon be beyond my control.  Her
breath became a panting gasp, then a grunt as a moan combined with the
inadequate breath.  She pounded faster and faster, tossing her head in
uncontrollable passion, using my cock as a tool for her own pleasure.
Regardless of her lack of attention to me, my own pleasure was being
handled spectacularly, the energy in her tight muscles clenching at my
shaft with irresistible pressure.  In a timeless instant, I lost my
control and arched against my bonds with a desperate need to drive
into her.  My groan of release was matched by her own panting moan as
she collapsed onto my chest.

	It was interesting to watch her face as she returned to the
real world.  First, there was a blank expression, as though there were
no mental processes in action.  Then, a dreamy look showed in her eyes
as she began to recall the emotions of her experience, still without
conscious thought.  However, when she finally began to remember in
detail the experience she had just survived a light of unrestrained
joy lit her face, transforming the normally reserved contours into an
softer, more feminine expression than she had ever worn.  She leaned
over to my face and began to smother it with enthusiastic kisses.
Though it was a tough job, I resolved that someone had to do it, so I
let her.  Of course, there wasn't anything else I could do.

	Kelly laughed at the joy in Billie Jo's face, and asked,
"Didn't I tell you that having a man was better than anything a woman
can do?  Lady-licking is like ice cream, sweet and delicious, but a
man is like steak, and satisfies in a much more 'filling' way."

	Giggling at her own pun, she took Billie Jo away to the
bathroom to clean up a little, and I lay back to relax to the gentle
tension of my bonds.  In a few minutes, they returned and gently
squirmed into bed on either side of me.

	"Comfortable?" Kelly asked.

	"Not bad," I replied.  "How long do you intend to leave me
like this?"

	The two women looked at each other and giggled together, then
snuggled closer.

	"We'll let you know," Kelly smiled sleepily.

	They drifted off to sleep, legs intertwined with mine, heads
resting on my arms, and their own arms joined over my chest.  As I let
drowsiness overcome me, I considered the tableau we made.  Beautiful
women sprawled over a tightly bound man.  I wondered how many men
would envy my position.



Chapter 13 - Final Preparations



	With the earliest hint of dawn casting gray light into the
room, the girls began to wake up.  Kelly stretched languidly.  After
one of her sexual bondage sessions she was always loose and relaxed.
As soon as Kelly started to stir, Billie Jo roused as well, though in
her case her new experience carried over with a few twinges in muscles
not previously used.  I had to admit to a little stiffness myself, as
the hours of bondage had restricted the normal repositioning people
need at night.  The women quickly grabbed the massage oil and kneaded
all of my muscles to looseness while they were still under the gentle
tension of the bungees.  Then they released me from the bonds.

	By now it was getting to be light out, though we didn't hear
any sounds outside.  Billie Jo scrounged up her sheer g-string and
went looking for her tee-shirt.  In a moment, dressed as far as she
could be, she came in to kiss us good-bye.  I flattered myself to
think that her kiss to me was at least as warm and full of gratitude
as her kiss to Kelly.  I know it brought her nipples up, the evidence
was obvious.  Smiling, but with heat showing again in her cheeks,
Billie Jo trotted back to her house though her usual easy grace
betrayed at least a little discomfort.  I expected she would get over
it soon enough.

	This day was to be a business day for Kelly and Brandy.  As
soon as I was showered and shaved (all over), Kelly laced me into the
white corset and I began to do my makeup.  My outfit this day was the
short-skirted business suit.  I looked cool and elegant, though my
beautiful hair was too long for a typical business woman, just as the
skirt was too short.  Kelly dressed in a matching outfit complete with
her own corset and short skirt now that she had her new clothes.

	Our first stop was at our bank.  With Kelly's co-signature and
my photo driver's license I obtained a credit card and checking
account as Brandy R. Dewinter.  I realized that my signature could not
exactly match Ran's, so I experimented with a softer, rounded style
and quickly developed one that was definitely more feminine, but which
I could execute smoothly.  After I had a bank credit card and checking
account, we went to a few department stores to get credit accounts.
The store's risk was eliminated by Kelly's co-signing, so they were
most happy to have a new customer.

	"Now that you're a real person, what do you want to buy
first?" Kelly grinned.

	"I think I need a purse," I replied.  "I can't keep on using
yours.  One of these days I'll leave something in your purse that I
need."

	Kelly nodded enthusiastic agreement and we began to shop in
earnest.  I selected a couple of stylish purses, one which maintained
the cool elegance of the suit I wore and one which showed a more
casual look to go with the denim skirt outfit.  With Kelly's
assistance and frequent reference to the articles she carried in her
own purse (some of which surprised her), we quickly filled my purse
with appropriate items.  As we wandered through the stores, we saw a
travel office.

	"Oh, look," Kelly pointed.  "We need to decide where we're
going on vacation when you make your own goal."

	The opportunities were fabulous, almost too many to choose
from.  We considered ski trips but decided that Brandy needed to spend
her vacation in skirts, not pants.  Just visiting cities didn't seem
like enough either.  We began to focus in on cruises.

	"Do you want to go to the Caribbean?" Kelly asked.

	"I don't think so," I replied disappointedly.  "I don't think
I would look good enough in a skimpy bikini, and I'm not interested in
some Mother Hubbard of a swimsuit."

	"Hmm," Kelly mused, "you're probably right.  I can't wait to
get a new swimsuit of my own, though."

	"Careful, you shameless showoff," I whispered, "you get me
thinking about you too hard, and I'll get too hard."

	Kelly blushed.  Clearly she had forgotten that she was with a
man who really appreciated her looks and not just a girl friend.  I
considered that the best compliment she had ever paid Brandy, and told
her so.  She nodded in amusement.

	"I remember who you are when it counts, though," she grinned.

	Smiling, I poked her in her armored ribs.  We finally settled
on a cruise to Alaska.  My weight had been inching steadily downward
so we felt we could commit right then to a schedule.  On the trend I
was on, it would take about a week to reach my goal.  We set a
departure date two weeks from that day, and I resolved to meet it,
regardless of what it took.

	The information on the cruise told us that the temperatures
would be cool enough to make jackets desirable when we were outside,
and that evening gowns were appropriate for dinner on at least a
couple of the nights of the cruise.  Accordingly, we embarked on a
serious shopping spree after that, laughing and chattering
companionably as we tried on clothes and commented on each others
appearance.  Kelly's sure sense of style and color led us to wonderful
choices.  We remembered the standard admonition to take twice as much
money and half as many clothes, but we just had to buy a mountain of
boxes full of new items.

	The day passed swiftly.  We ate lightly as we shopped and
returned home after dark, laden with packages.  This had been the
first full day I had been Brandy, and my tired feet proved it.  I was
reaching to remove my wig when Kelly stopped me.

	"Don't stop being Brandy, yet," she pleaded.  "Let's put on
our nightgowns and go sit for a little while."

	I carefully removed my clothes.  Before, I had always taken
off my wig first and didn't have to worry about my long tresses
getting in the way of buttons and laces.  Even with Kelly's help on
the corset, I found my silken waves flowing into my face and over my
shoulders with every move I made.  Kelly helped me tie my hair up in a
ponytail until I had the nightgown and peignoir on, but I let it down
again as I stepped into my high-heeled slippers.  The warm brown color
cascaded over the dark red of the sheer outfit, bringing out
highlights in each.

	"Goodness, girl, you look like an invitation to heaven," Kelly
gushed.

	"No way, beautiful," I laughed as I disagreed.  "You're the
angelic one.  The invitation this dark red implies is to an entirely
more sinful place."

	We strolled through our house to the back yard, again sitting
on the lounge chairs.  The soft summer breeze tickled its way through
our thin material as I considered how far I had come in such a short
time.  I wondered how far I could go.

	"What do you think we should do after I get off vacation?" I
asked.

	"What do you mean?"

	"Well, you don't need to lose any more weight, and the only
way I'll lose much is if I start shedding muscle.  We met our original
purpose, or will have in a few days when I finally get to my goal.  So
then I get my incentive and spend full time as a woman for a while.
Then what?"

	"I hadn't thought about it.  What do you want?"

	"I really don't know," I mused.  "When we started, I
considered this a lark, and it still is.  I'm having a wonderful time
as Brandy and our sex is better than ever.  I find myself wanting to
be Brandy nearly full time, except when I'm filling you full of what
only Ran has."

	"Maybe you ought to be Brandy full time, at least for a while.
I like spending time with Brandy too much to let her go away.  You
can't stay on vacation forever, though.  What would it take to be able
to go to work as Brandy instead of Ran?"

	"I don't know.  I only see my investment customers a couple of
times a year when we go through their portfolios in detail.  The rest
of the time we handle our business by phone or computer.  Maybe Ran
needs to expand his business and take on a partner named Brandy," I
grinned as an approach presented itself.  "Then I could be Brandy
except for a few days twice a year.  Even that might fade away if
Brandy turns out to be a good investment advisor and Ran's clients
decide they like her better.  What do you think?"

	"Oh, Brandy, that could work!"

	"Let's see how the cruise goes.  But I may need to redecorate
my office and add a space for a junior partner," I smiled in dreamy
hope.



Chapter 14 - Pure Brandy



	I reached my goal, finally, on the schedule we expected.
Kelly told me to hurry home the following Friday.  That afternoon
would be the last time anyone would see Ran for a while.  I was
already well on my way to changing and had the wine-red
lace-up-the-front corset in place when Kelly got home.  It may not
have gotten laced as tightly as Kelly usually did, but only because I
didn't have as good a leverage.  I was determined to maintain the
standards we had set for Brandy even without Kelly in attendance.

	"Good, you're almost ready," she said.  Put on your denim
skirt and the red lace blouse and I'll join you as soon as I can.  We
have an appointment in thirty minutes."

	"Where?" I called to her as she went into the closet.

	"You'll see," she grinned as she handed me her own corset to
lace up the back.  Soon she was squeezed down to her own optimal
figure and went to finish changing.  I completed my preparations,
ending with the tight, shiny gloves I typically wore to disguise my
hands.  Kelly walked in as I was pulling these on and I saw a sly grin
light her face.

	"What are you smirking about?" I challenged.

	"You'll see," she repeated, teasing.

	One last check in the mirror and we were ready to go.  By now,
my swing in heels was so normal that I found myself sashaying even
when dressed as Ran.  I was going to have to do something about my
dual life or Ran's reputation was history anyway.  We walked out of
the house and I saw Billie Jo leaning against her car door.  She was
dressed similarly, though she had decided on leather for her
miniskirt.  She waved and laughed as we moved closer, then opened the
car door with a flourish.

	"Your chariot awaits, Milady," she called.

	Throwing a questioning glance at Kelly, who blandly ignored
it, we crossed the small area of grass and were soon in Billie Jo's
car.

	"Where are we going?" I demanded again.

	"You'll see," they said in unison, then dissolved into
laughter.

	In a few minutes I did see, as we pulled into a nail parlor
parking lot.

	"Don't you think she needs long, elegant fingernails?" Kelly
asked Billie Jo.

	"Certainly," Billie Jo replied.

	"Okay," I said with an embarrassed flush.  "I'll try it, but
only if you do, too."

	"Why do you think we came along?" Billie Jo said.

	Soon we were seated before a manicurist who patiently
described the various styles we could choose, explaining the
difference between acrylic and fiberglass, built-on and pre-formed
nail tips.  Billie Jo wanted me to try long, curved, dragon lady
nails, but Kelly held out for a straighter shape, though just as long.
Again I agreed to anything that they would try also, which settled the
question as Kelly said she just couldn't see herself as a dragon lady.
In the end, we selected an expensive silk-wrap process.  After all,
this was the start of a very special vacation.  They both insisted I
go first, so I pulled off my gloves and extended my hands to the
manicurist.  She looked at me quizzically for a second, but I only
raised one elegant eyebrow, daring her to make a comment.  She blushed
with embarrassment for having questioned the femininity of such a
beautiful woman and proceeded to apply the nail forms.  While my new
nails were hardening on the forms the manicurist proceeded to Kelly
and Billie Jo.  We had our own little assembly line set up, with each
step demonstrated first on me then applied to the others.  Finally my
nails were hardened and shaped, extending almost an inch past the ends
of my fingers.

	"What color polish would you like to use?" the manicurist
asked.

	"Oh," Kelly interjected, "I have her polish right here."

	Kelly offered a deep, frosty red that matched the lipstick she
had previously chosen for me.  I looked at her with suspicion and her
answering grin indicated that she had planned this for a long time.
The manicurist quickly applied what would turn out to be the first of
several coats of polish and had me place my nails in the dryer as she
moved on to trim and finish Kelly and Billie Jo.  Periodically she
would test my nails and apply additional coats when they were ready.
By the time she had the other two ready for polish my own nails were
completely dry, with a hard, lustrous shine.  I couldn't stop admiring
the shape they gave my hands and the grace they gave my movements.
Everything I did seemed to send a flash of color.  The other two
laughed at me as I waved my hands about, but they were clearly envious
as well.

	I reached to pick up the gloves I had worn in and laughed as
my nails hit the table.  The tough silk wrap protected them, but I
wondered how long they would last as I gingerly took the gloves and
then tried to open my purse.  The long nails now seemed everywhere,
interfering in everything I wanted to do.  Taking a deep breath, I
decided I would not let the inconvenience bother me.  My hands looked
gorgeous and I was proud.  The other two cycled through the nail
dryer, their polish matching the glossy colors of their own lipstick.
When they were done, we all went sauntering out to the parking lot and
fell off our tall heels into the car, giggling crazily at the
intensely sensuous look of our hands, legs, and clothes.

	"Where do you want to go eat?" Kelly asked, the sly smile back
on her face.

	"Oh, I'll thing of something," Billie Jo said with a
too-casual nonchalance.

	Their conspiratorial grins increased as we arrived at the same
restaurant which had been the scene of Brandy's debut, though at first
the parking valet did not recognize us since we were in Billie Jo's
car.  As we pulled up to the entryway, the valet hurried to my door on
the passenger side.  He opened it, then I swung my shining legs out of
the car and offered him a glamorous hand for his assistance.  His eyes
bulged at the long smooth shape of my legs though he still obviously
hadn't looked at my face.  When he did, a broad grin broke out.

	"Welcome back, Miss . . . ," he paused in invitation.

	"Brandy," I said.  "It's nice to be back."

	Dropping my voice to a soft whisper, I continued, "Last time
you said you'd take good care of me.  I decided to take you up on
that."

	The intimacy implied by my soft comment reduced the poor guy
to stammering incoherence, and the other girls had to get out of the
car by themselves.  I smiled with the look of cool amusement that had
given me such fits when I was on the receiving end and waited
patiently for him to let go of my hand.  When Kelly and Billie Jo
arrived by my side he seemed to come back to life and dropped my hand.

	"Three of you," he breathed.  "Wherever you come from, I'm
immigrating."

	"I don't know if you could pass the entrance requirements," I
teased.

	Shaking out my long hair, I ran my shining nails through it in
a slow, sensual motion and then turned toward the door.  The parking
valet gulped and stared and the bulge in his pants looked positively
painful.  Billie Jo gasped as well, amazed at the power and poise I
had just demonstrated.

	"Shameless, simply shameless," I heard Kelly snicker.  Billie
Jo giggled in response, but she looked at me with more respect.

	I let them catch up and whispered to them both, "I said I'd be
pure Brandy, I never said I'd be a lady at all.  If I were a real
woman, I'd tease guys when I could be safe about it, so get used to
it.  Kelly's the angel, not me."

	This time I went to the hostess myself and announced our need
for a table.  My soft, musical voice was the trigger for attention
from the men in the area and I could see the local stud patrol
forming.  I wondered how they would sort out.  As Ran, even before
Kelly and I had married, I could never have approached such lovely,
sensuous creatures in a bar.  I had met Kelly first in a professional
setting, at an investment seminar, and she had been well-dressed but
not so blatantly sexual.  She had come a long way in her own awareness
of how beautiful she was and again I was glad to have met and captured
her.  Her angelic smile and bouncing vivacity added to that new
sensual self-appreciation to make her seem like the perfect woman to
spend your life with, which was actually exactly right.

	Billie Jo had also been transformed.  Before she had been in a
shell, reserved and a bit severe.  Now, the combination of her
awakened awareness of her beauty plus her long-delayed understanding
of what men were good for gave her a hunger for virile men which
matched their hunger for sensuous women.  The appraising glance with
which she swept the room showed a willingness to meet a man more than
halfway, but it would have to be a real man.  The challenge in her
look actually intimidated a few of the men (as it would have
intimidated Ran), but it brought others to attention like bird dogs on
a scent.  Interestingly enough, the blatant studs with open shirts and
chains were among those put off.  They seemed to gravitate to the
repressed women, the ice maidens, who would presumably be grateful for
their attention.  The real men with enough self-confidence to meet
Billie Jo's challenge did not need to advertise so bluntly.  It would
take due care to shut down the arrogant, but finding a man with
well-deserved pride was obviously Billie Jo's quest tonight.

	I leaned over to Kelly and whispered, "Look at Billie Jo.
That's a hunting look.  I wonder if we'll have to find our own way
home tonight, or if she'll loan us her keys.  For sure, she doesn't
intend to leave alone."

	"Look who's talking!" Kelly gasped in wonder.  "If anyone is
on the hunt tonight, it's you.  I really am going back to that parking
lot guy with a Kleenex, though he's more likely to need it for the
dribble at his pants than the drool at his mouth.  You're terrible!"

	"Really?" I questioned.  "I'm not trying to be cheap, only
seductive.  I've been teased often enough to figure that it's inherent
in femininity."

	"No," she backed down, "actually you're doing fantastic and I
wish I had your sophistication.  From now on, I'm taking notes from
you.  You come across as definitely not cheap, not easy, but certainly
possible.  Exactly right for a single girl on the make, or an
outrageous tease.  Just be sure you're ready if some guy doesn't want
to take no for an answer.  Teasing like that gets women raped.  It's
not a valid excuse, but some types of men like to use it."

	While we had been whispering, the stud patrol had begun the
too-cool-to-rush shuffle in our direction.  Perhaps it was because my
memory had made him into something better than real, but none of those
approaching seemed nearly as interesting as Dart Tanyon had been.
Billie Jo seemed disappointed as well.  I flattered myself with the
thought that she had chosen to share her first man-woman sexual
experience with me, even if I had been little more than an available
tool.  At least her standards were high enough to exclude these
approaching would-be hunks.  On the other hand, Kelly had again
attracted a good-looking, likable type who had drawn her off for a few
quiet words so smoothly I didn't know they were gone.  As the other
studs jockeyed for position, our table was called and I grabbed
Kelly's arm and pulled her with us.  Billie Jo and I laughed on the
way to the table at her dismayed expression.

	"What would you have done if you caught him?" I teased.

	"Listen to you!" she giggled.  "We might have had to find out
just how silver your tongue is if one of those hunks had latched onto
you."

	The three of us were the focus of all the eyes in the room.  I
distinctly saw one overweight geek (about like I used to be, I
supposed) edging a spoon to the side of his table.  Choking down my
mirth, I danced lightly to the other side of our group but Billie Jo
had no idea what was going on until the spoon fell to the floor with a
tiny ring just as we passed the table.  The geek bent down to pick it
up, clearly going for a beaver shot.  We all laughed hilariously,
which had him blushing furiously just as he deserved.  At least I had
never been that much of a geek.

	"What do you suppose he would have done if he got a look at
what I have up my skirt?" I asked innocently, which provoked fresh
gales of laughter.

	"If he had been in here the first night and you tried that
little dance, you'd have ended up on your ass and everyone in the
place would have known your secret," Kelly giggled.

	"Don't remind me.  I felt like I had a flaming arrow over my
head saying 'Look at this clumsy fool!'"

	"Well, he did get a look up my skirt," Billie Jo grinned, "and
I have on a tiny g-string even more sheer than the one you guys gave
me.  He knows a secret you two don't even know yet."

	"What's that," we chorused.

	"I shaved this morning, all over.  I'm as clean as a newborn
baby down there."

	"Ooh," Kelly gasped, "that'll bring your nipples up."

	"Speak for yourself," I laughed as I poked her in her corseted
ribs.

	This set us all off uncontrollably.  We were laughing so hard
that the people at the tables around us began to grin as well.  Our
infectious laughter soon spread throughout our section of the
restaurant (except for the geek's table) and in a few moments, the
manager came by to see what was going on.  The people at the first
table he reached were laughing themselves by then.  When he politely
asked them what was so funny, they suddenly calmed and admitted that
they didn't know, which set them off again.  He chuckled with them and
moved on, finally realizing that the epicenter of the mirth explosion
in his restaurant was at our table.

	"I'm glad to see you ladies are having such a good time," he
began with a smile.

	"Yes we are," I giggled, trying to get the others to calm
down.  "Your parking valet promised us you would."

	"Would what?" he asked in confusion.

	"Show us a good time," I responded with a wink.

	The manager flushed, but I could see another tent pole
forming.

	"He said I would show you a good time?" he queried with a
little annoyance.

	"Well, actually, he said 'We'll show you a good time', but I
figured if it was your restaurant then it fell to you to make good on
any commitments made by the staff," I explained, almost able to get
through that whole outrageous statement without snickering.

	The manager was a good-enough looking guy, fit and trim.  He
probably didn't have much trouble finding women, though he had no
wedding ring.  I could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried
to decide whether to encourage this flirtation.  He looked at Billie
Jo and Kelly, who were red in the face from laughing and were trying
to appear innocent (an easy job for Kelly, but impossible for the
hunting Billie Jo).  Then I could see his expression change as he
reached his decision, unfortunately.

	"Well, Miss . . .," he paused.

	"Brandy, Kelly, Billie Jo," we chorused in confusing
counterpoint.

	"Well ladies," he began again, not sure why this simple
statement also threatened to set us to giggling again.  "You've made
my restaurant a happy place tonight.  I'll have your waiter bring you
drinks on the house.  But please, try and keep it down.  Some of the
patrons come here to relax, not laugh so hard they hurt."

	"Really?"  Kelly questioned, "tell us who and we'll go cheer
him up."

	"Yep," I grinned.  "I bet we could put a smile on his face."

	"Just like yours," Billie Jo chimed in, pointing out the
embarrassed grin worn by the manager.

	He shook his head and moved off, but a few minutes later the
waiter did come by with drink refills.  We finished our meals and got
ready to leave.

	"Watch out for teetering spoons," I warned with a grin.

	"Watch out yourself, I've got nothing to hide," Kelly
retorted.

	"Well, I guess I've got nothing left to hide," Billie Jo
added.

	"Right," I rounded out our little vaudeville act.

	"No, left," Billie Jo repeated.

	Those near enough to hear us grinned with us, watching in
appreciation (if male) or envy (if female) as we strolled to the exit.

	The valet had parked Billie Jo's car close to the entrance and
as we approached he scurried to get it.  In a moment was holding my
door again, offering me his hand to steady the fall off my towering
heels into the seat.

	"Did you have a good time, tonight?" he asked.

	"Not entirely," I pouted, though the twinkle in my eyes
contradicted my full lips.  "But the night is young," I continued with
a wink.  As he let go of my hand, I let a long nail scratch lightly at
his palm.  His gasp was enough to catch the other girls' attention.
They looked at me with fake glares and then broke up laughing again.

	"Shameless," Kelly admonished.

	"Completely," Billie Jo confirmed.

	I pretended to blush, but they both knew I wasn't sorry at
all.  The parking lot attendant carefully closed my door after I had
swung my legs in.  His blush was real, as was the reaction
demonstrated in his pants.  I wondered if he could even stand up
straight.  As we drove off I tossed my hair around so I could get a
look at him, and saw him gently rubbing his palm where my nail had
trailed across it.



Chapter 15 - Tart, Twenty-Six, and Never Been Kissed



	"The night's too young to go home already," Billie Jo offered.

	"Where do you suppose we should go?" Kelly asked with overdone
innocence.

	"Oh, I don't know, just cruise around I suppose," Billie Jo
answered.

	"What do you two have cooked up now?" I demanded.  Billie Jo
clearly had a destination in mind.  She had driven directly to an
entrance ramp and was now sliding through traffic on the freeway.

	"She doesn't trust us," Billie Jo lamented, smiling through
her fake concern.

	"No," Kelly agreed, "she's had a suspicious mind ever since
I've known her.  I can't imagine why."

	"Okay, you two.  I'll go anywhere you'll go with me," I
declared, taking up the challenge inherent in their words.

	"Promises, promises," Kelly laughed.

	In a few minutes we left the freeway and were soon pulling
into the parking lot of a nightclub featuring male strippers.  Though
I thought I had achieved a full commitment to Brandy, I found that I
could still be embarrassed.  My blush as I recognized our destination
provided a fiery reminder of my earlier sensitivity to looking female.
Just how much would I have to act like a female tonight?  I wondered.

	Even the waiters in this place were good-looking and the
hunting look was soon back in Billie Jo's eyes.  We were escorted to a
table fairly close to the elevated stage and ordered a round of
drinks.  All around us were giggling, nervous women, most of whom were
older and less attractive than our party, but all seemed determined to
have a good time.  In an acceptably short while the lights went down
which caused an expectant hush to fall over the crowd.  When the
lights came up, there were a half dozen cowboys on the stage, dressed
in long coats with hats pulled down over their eyes.

	From somewhere, hard driving rock music began and the cowboys
began to move to the music.  At the first pelvic thrust, a woman
somewhere hooted and the audience came to life, then laughing,
whistling, cheering women from all sides called to the dancers with
encouragements of all sort.  Soon the cowboys were tossing hats and
pulling loose bandanas.  I was not surprised to notice that Kelly was
cheering as enthusiastically as the rest, since she had always been so
open and excitable.  I was surprised to hear Billie Jo shouting as
well, though in her case it didn't seem like a request.

	I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see a tall
motorcycle cop looking down on me.

	"Miss Brandy Dewinter?" he asked.

	"Yes," I stammered in confusion, my heart caught in my throat.
I know I should have realized immediately what was going on, but my
fear at getting "caught in the act" was still very near the surface
and the appearance of this authority figure was enough to put my
higher reasoning powers on hold as panic set in.

	"Do you have any ID?" his questions continued.

	"Yes," I mumbled again as I started going through my purse for
my new driver's license, trying to remember where I put it.  My long
nails kept getting in the way, making me fumble like an idiot.
Finally I found the pocketbook it was in and held it up to him.

	"Hmm," he mused as he returned it to me.  "Would you read for
me the birthday that is shown on that license?"

	I almost gave out my real birthday in reflex, but I was
finally coming out of my shock.  This cop had on large aviator
sunglasses though the room was fairly dark except on the stage.  He
probably couldn't have read my ID or birthday if he needed to.  That
must have been the first clue that something was not right in this
situation.  I looked at Kelly, who still had her patented innocent
expression, then at Billie Jo who was choking to contain her laughter.
Looking at my license with sick certainty, I saw that the birthday was
that very day, of course.

	"You set me up!" I accused Kelly.

	She nodded happily.

	"And you knew about it," I glared at Billie Jo.

	Too choked to speak, she could only nod as well.

	"Ma'am," the pseudo-cop said, "you'll have to come with me."

	With that, he gently but firmly grasped my arms, stood me up,
and turned me around, facing our little table.  He bent me forward
over the table and pulled my hands behind me.  In a second, I felt
handcuffs click and my arms were securely bound.  All I could think of
was Kelly's admonition the first time I had gone out as Brandy to sit
carefully and not bend over.  The cop had me bent far over the table
and I could feel the hem of my dangerously short skirt clearly
exposing creamy thigh above the tops of my stockings.  I didn't think
the rest of my secrets were exposed, but it must have been close.
After my arms were secured the cop helped me straighten up and started
to lead me away.  My glare at Kelly was almost real, but then I
decided to overcome this obstacle with style and began to exaggerate
my already-pronounced hip swing.  The cop took me through a side door
and we were backstage.

	"Ma'am," he said, "you're going to be the target of my act
tonight.  If you'll be a good sport and play along, I'll take you back
to the dressing room later and let you meet the dancers.  I'm not
allowed to touch you any place except on your arms, so you don't need
to worry, but I will pretend to, if that's all right with you."

	I looked at him with arched eyebrow, considering his proposal.
I knew I'd go along.  Kelly and Billie Jo had worked too hard to set
this up, but I decided I could negotiate a little.

	"First," I demanded, "stop calling me ma'am.  That sounds like
an old woman.  Do I look like an old woman to you?"  I thrust my
(artificially-enhanced) tits at him and struck a pose with my hips.

	I could see a blush even in the part of his face not covered
by his sunglasses and helmet as he shook his head.

	"No, ma'am, I mean miss . . ." he stammered.

	"Brandy," I offered, "call me Brandy."

	He nodded in silent consent.

	"Second," I continued, "you need to bring my friends back as
well.  They get to meet your dancers, too."

	He nodded again.

	"Third, I'll go along with your act, but I'm not easy.  I'm
going to start out hard to get.  If you're good enough, you might find
me more willing by the end of the act.  How long are you on for?"

	"About five minutes," he answered with a smile, "do you have
any other conditions?"

 	"Just one, for now, you have to tell me your name."

	"Henry," he admitted. "But the guys call me Hank," he added
quickly.

	"And the girls call you 'Hunk', don't they?" I laughed.  His
flush returned in confirmation of this obvious conclusion.

	"Lead on, Officer Hunk, I'm your captive.  Let's see what
you're made of."

	The music for the first act was ending and the cowboy dancers
filed off the stage, having shed the long drover's coats along with
most of the rest of their clothes.  Hank grabbed up a stool and took
me out onto the vacated stage before the audience of cheering women.
I pretended to be angry, tossing my hair and struggling.  The
handcuffs forced my shoulders back and my tits forward so I waved them
around like flags.  I let my swinging hip bump against his leg, which
caused a glance from Hank as he tried to move out of the way.  He put
the stool down on the stage and sat me carefully down on it but I
wasn't able to pull the hem of my skirt into place and could tell a
bit of hip was showing above my stockings.  As long as it's not what's
between my legs, I prayed.

	Another driving rock rhythm began and Hank began to strut
around the stage.  From somewhere a voice came over the speakers.  It
wasn't Hank's voice but he acted as though he were speaking.

	"This woman has been charged with impersonating a younger
lady.  Today is her birthday and she's a year older than she has been.
In her defense, she maintains that she is still as hot and exciting as
any younger woman.  I intend to find out if that is true."

	With that the music came up and he began his dance.  He pulled
off one of his gloves and dropped it in my lap, reaching with his bare
hand as though to caress my cheek.  I bit at his hand with my teeth,
just missing a mouthful.  He pulled his hand back as though I had
truly bitten it, giving me a quizzical look.  His next glove was
thrown somewhere into the crowd, provoking squeals which overrode the
music for an instant.  His helmet was removed next and placed on the
stage where it provided an anchor for the next several movements of
his dance.  He pulled his jacket off and danced back to me, trailing
it behind him.  When he reached me this time his hands moved as though
to cup my breasts.  I shied away, really worried about a too-detailed
examination.  However, true to his earlier promise, he did not
actually touch me.  More confident, now, I resolved to begin to play
into his act.

	He danced back and reached for the collar of his shirt.  In
one abrupt jerk, he pulled the special stripper-shirt off, revealing a
clean-shaven chest shining with oil.  This brought peals of laughter
and offers from the crowd of women.  I let myself stare at his chest,
slowly licking my shining lips as though unconsciously.  His eyes
widened at this sign if interest, and he danced closer again.  This
time, when he reached for my breasts instead of shying away I arched
toward his touch, again as though it were an unconscious reflex though
I allowed the handcuffs to keep me from moving too much.  His eyes
widened again and I noticed a smile in them that the audience probably
couldn't see.

	As he danced away, I noticed that he was breathing heavily by
now, muscular chest heaving.  I expected it was due to the exertions
of his energetic dance, but it worked to give an expression of
building passion.  I let my own breathing become more visible, as
though panting myself.  My tight corset, as always, made any increase
in depth of breath very noticeable.  By this time he had danced back
to the other edge of the stage, then reached to his waist and pulled
off his pants with a flourish nicely-timed to the beat of the music.
I gasped along with the rest of the crowd, though in my case it was
because the bulging g-string he wore was a near duplicate of the thong
tightly constricting my own hidden bulge.  Now I let my mouth open
slightly, breathing harder than ever.  I licked my lips again and let
the tip of my tongue catch in my teeth, showing delicately.

	I began to realize that my pretend passion had awakened a real
desire.  I wasn't really interested in this dancing stud, but my own
cock began to send complaints at the tightness of its constriction.
At some level, his clean-shaven, muscular dancer's body was so alive
with animal energy that it created a response even in me.  The effect
on the women in the audience was fantastic.  Their cheers were
continuous now, overcoming the music.  Hank danced toward me one more
time, pausing to turn and wiggle his nearly-nude buns at me which
provoked gales of laughter from the crowd.  I let my mouth open more
fully, breathing hard.  As he reached out with both hands to cup my
face (still never quite touching) he pulsed his hips toward me.  His
motion implied that he might capture my face and bring it to his
pounding crotch.  Instead of drawing away, I moved my face toward his
hands, pursing my lips in an attempt to kiss his palm.  When my mouth
was hidden by his hands, I quickly flicked my tongue out and licked
his palm, causing a jerk in his body that was not quite in time to the
music.  It was impossible to tell whether the flush on his face and
heavy breathing were due to sexual excitement or just the exertions of
his dance, but the pulse I could see in his pouch was unmistakable.
He was no longer dancing just for his act, he was dancing for me,
feeding on the energy of my excitement to increase his own.  His hands
swayed downward over my body, looking as though he were caressing me
from neck to waist, not avoiding any obstacles in between.  I arched
erotically into his touch, throwing my head back and sending waves
flowing through my silken tresses.  Hank began dancing over my legs,
spreading his own to straddle my thighs.  He ran his hands more
quickly up and down my body, building to match the climax in the
music.  I began to pulse toward him, arching as though I were shaken
by orgasm.  Just as it seemed his bulging pouch would be thrust into
my navel, the music climaxed and the lights went out.

	He quickly moved back and gathered his clothes in the dark,
familiar with his own routine.  In another second he was helping me to
my feet and taking me backstage.  We barely beat the lights as they
came back on, but all that remained on stage was the stool, silent
reminder of a bound woman now carried off into mystery.  The crowd of
women exploded into applause.  I expected there were more than a few
pairs of damp panties out there, and many women jealous of me at that
moment.

	No sooner had the door closed behind us then Hank dropped what
was in his hands and spun me to face him.  He surprised me and
provoked a quick gasp, which enhanced an opportunity he was determined
to achieve.  While my mouth was still slightly parted from my gasp, he
assailed my lips with a powerful kiss.  His tongue followed his lips
within an instant and was immediately probing deep into my mouth.  I
had become excited during his dance in spite of myself, and my
immediate response was to be responsive.  By the time I remembered
that I was kissing a man I was already thoroughly involved.  Damn he
was a good kisser!  His lips captured me powerfully but not abusively,
and his passion was undeniable.  I would have to remember that
technique.  From somewhere I seemed to hear some announcement about a
short pause in the entertainment, though I wasn't really paying
attention.  After I time interval I could not really have identified,
he stepped back.

	"Oh, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed.

	I allowed a pout to form on my ruby lips.  "I don't usually
get complaints from my kisses," I whimpered in pretended distress.

	He blushed furiously.  "No!  I didn't mean that.  It's just
that I can get fired for touching you, let alone kissing you, but you
are so HOT!  I couldn't help myself."

	I allowed my pout to retract about half way.  "Well, that's
not a bad apology. . . for a start."

	I shrugged my shoulders to remind him my wrists were still
bound in the handcuffs.  He fumbled through his clothes for the key
(he was clearly not carrying one in his g-string) and in another
minute my arms were free.  I moved closer to him and placed one finger
on his lips.

	"Never apologize, mister, it's a sign of weakness," I grinned
with the reference to the old John Wayne movie.  "I may get you fired
for regretting you kissed me, and I will certainly try if you ever
call me ma'am again, but I won't breathe a word about our kiss to
anyone if it would get you in trouble."

	His arms went back around my waist, this time with a little
pause as he realized that I was wearing an interesting corset he had
not noticed when his passionate embrace had surrounded my bound arms.
I could tell he was about to move in for a rematch and was wondering
how I would react when a side door opened and a waiter brought Kelly
and Billie Jo backstage.  Hank sprang back at the motion and he began
to gather up his stuff again.  I coughed slightly to get his attention
and moved a finger across my lips, indicating he should wipe my
lipstick off his mouth.  By this time Kelly and Billie Jo had seen us
and moved our way as he quickly wiped his face.

	"What's gotten into you?" Kelly demanded in a sharp whisper.

	"Tell you later," I stalled in an answering soft tone.

	"This is 'Hunk'," I announced to my companions with a chuckle,
"though he tells me the guys call him Hank."

	"Hunk is right," Kelly gushed.  "I have never seen such a
powerful, sexy dance."

	Billie Jo said nothing, though the gleam in her eyes showed
her agreement with that assessment.

	"I never had either," Hank replied, "but, then, I never did it
with Brandy before."

	This time it was my turn to blush.  Kelly and Billie Jo
noticed and chuckled softly at my discomfort.

	"Brandy's never done it before, either," Kelly commented in
bland innocence, though fully aware of the double meaning.

	Hank led us to the dressing room.  The cowboys were there, now
getting ready for the next group number where they would be lifeguards
at a beach.  Their thin swim trunks left little to the imagination.
As Hank escorted us in, the men started hooting and catcalling.

	"Oh, Mama, you can dance with me anytime!

	"Do you move as well when you're not wearing handcuffs?"

	I put my hands on my hips and gave a few sensuous circles, as
though doing a traditional bump and grind.  By this time, Kelly and
Billie Jo had filed into the room behind us and quickly joined the
act, providing our own line of long-legged dancers.  The hoots and
cheers echoed those in the main show room and I heard offers flooding
in from all sides.

	A heavily-muscled dancer with extreme definition in the ridges
of his body called out, "I've died and gone to heaven and the angels
are coming for me."

	I swayed over to him and lightly held his chin up on one
long-nailed finger.  "No," I disagreed, "you might find Kelly in
heaven, she truly is an angel, and Billie Jo hasn't made up her mind,
yet.  But if you're looking for me you'll have to go where the sins
are a lot more fun than heaven allows."

	This brought a fresh chorus of cheers and offers.  I grinned
at the most impressive stud patrol I had ever seen and sashayed back
to where Kelly and Billie Jo stood, giving an extra little hip dip on
the way.  Kelly's mouth was sagging in disbelief, though whether at my
actions or at the ton of prime beef in the room I couldn't tell.
Looking at Billie Jo, though, I saw an expression of naked need in her
eyes.  She had passed beyond want for a man and was now hungry in a
way I could not have believed would ever show in her.

	I whispered to her, "Pick one out.  At this point, you can
probably have your choice."

	At least this brought her back to the real world, and a blush
made a subtle change in the heat coloring her cheeks.  She was clearly
fascinated by the rock-hard muscle definition in the man I had spoken
to.  It seemed her current desire was for the most masculine-looking
guy she could find and she had found a spectacular example.  I grabbed
her by the arm and pulled her back to stud who interested her.

	"Billie Jo, I would like you to meet . . . ," I paused, never
having gotten his name.

	"Rod," he responded.

	"I'm sure you are," I giggled.  "Billie Jo is just fascinated
with your . . . . smile."

	She blushed at my claim, but instead of denying it, she
dropped her head.  In just a second or two, however, she was looking
at Rod through her lashes and I recognized the proven techniques of
female seduction at work.  A tall blond man with an open, smiling face
had appeared at Kelly's side from wherever those types are fabricated.
She always did attract the nice guys.  That left me with over a half a
ton of prime beefcake and no idea what to do next.  I really didn't
want to go beyond flirting with these guys, but I didn't want my own
limits to hold down Billie Jo.  I also wasn't sure about what I wanted
for Kelly.  I decided to bring Billie Jo's decision to a head.

	"Billie Jo, can I have the keys to your car?  I think I left
something in it."

	She looked at me in surprise, since she knew I hadn't left
anything in it.  Then she realized what I was doing and began to
fumble in her purse.  Her own long nails frustrated her but she found
her key ring and gave it to me.  Kelly had brought my own purse.  I
took it and dropped the keys inside.

	"There," I said, "now you don't have to worry about us and
your car.  If we need something, we can handle it."

	Rod said, "Billie Jo, if you don't mind staying until the show
is over, I'll be glad to take you home."

	"Hers or yours," I teased.

	Billie Jo blushed when Rod's only answer was an eyebrow raised
in her direction.

	I grabbed Billie Jo's arm and then extracted Kelly from the
attentions of her latest blond hunk.  Waving gaily we left the
dressing room to make it back to our table for the rest of the show
where we found a note on the table from the manager, offering me a job
if I wanted to repeat my performance.  I smiled and showed it to
Kelly, but then put it in my purse.

	"Interested?" Kelly asked.

	"No," I replied.  "It was fun once, but I'm not sure I could
repeat it."

	"You know," I continued, "you guys set me up.  I'm not
sweet-sixteen-and-never-been-kissed, but now I guess I qualify as a
twenty-six year old tart."

	"What about the never-been-kissed part?" Kelly asked,
understanding dawning in her eyes.

	 "Old Hunk took care of that right well, thank you," I
drawled.  "That's one of the reasons I had to get out of the dressing
room.  I was afraid he or one of his friend would want a repeat
performance, and I wasn't sure what I would do."

	"What would you do?" Kelly demanded with a laugh.

	"I really don't know.  He surprised me and I was halfway
through the kiss before I realized what was going on.  By then, I was
all the way into it.  I must admit I enjoyed it."

	"Well, Brandy, we may just have to arrange that repeat
performance."

	Shaking my head at her comment, I felt myself wondering what I
really wanted.  When the show was over, a waiter came to invite us
backstage again.  I held back, but urged Billie Jo to go.

	"I'm sure Rod's waiting for you and you know enough about
where he works and everything to be reasonably safe.  Go for it!"

	She gulped, but her need was plain on her face and I knew she
was already convinced.

	"We'll get home ourselves, in your car.  Make him give you a
good ride."

	"Now, remember what I taught you," Kelly giggled as she
straightened out Billie Jo's blouse.

Billie Jo went with the waiter and we headed for home.  Though we sat
out in our nightgowns for a long while, we never did see her return.
The next morning we were getting ready to go see if she was okay when
we heard a car drive up.  Running to the window, we saw her get out.
She seemed to be moving a bit stiffly, but she turned back to the car
and dove in for a long, lingering kiss before getting out once again
and going into her house.  We decided she must have been happy with
her evening, but that she could probably use some rest so we left her
alone that day.



Chapter 16 - Adventure On The High Seas



	My time as pure Brandy quickly included solo outings.  In the
morning I got up and shaved carefully, then Kelly laced me into a
corset and went about her own preparations.  I took my time getting
dressed since I was on vacation, so I was still in corset and
stockings when she left.  However, I proceeded through the entire
routine and didn't leave the bedroom until I was as beautiful as Kelly
had shown me I could be.  The first few hours were spent in the house
since I wasn't entirely comfortable with going out on my own, but by
the middle of the day I decided I would try a solo trip and wondered
if I could get into the pickup in my short skirt.  As I left the house
determined to try, I saw that Kelly had taken the pickup and left me
her Camaro.  Smiling at her thoughtfulness and confidence in me, I
slid into the car, ran errands and shopped, smiling at the women and
flirting with the men.  I had plenty of offers to carry groceries or
packages and could have had help all the way back to the house, if I
had wanted it.  The cruise idea began to look better and better as my
confidence increased that I could sustain my new identity.

	Kelly was going to dress as sensually as I did for the entire
trip so her outfits were selected to complement mine.  This meant we
had to get a leather dress for me that was similar to hers, though not
so tight that it would leave a gap since I would always need to wear a
corset.  Her ivory leather dress was the only outfit she would wear
without her own corset.  Besides, by now she had lost enough weight
that the gap had narrowed considerably except at the top where her
bust held it open.  We chose black for the color of my leather dress
and mine also had full shoulders since I couldn't match the cleavage
her bustier style displayed.  While she wasn't looking I hid our ankle
restraints and handcuffs, including the chains and locks, in our
luggage but we were still packed and ready on the day of our flight
out and at the airport well ahead of time.  The gate attendant looked
at our sky-high spiked heels and reminded us to take them off if for
any reason we had to leave the plane in a hurry.  This admonition was
repeated by the flight attendant who took our tickets and again by the
flight attendant who assisted us as we settled into our seats.

	"I guess they're serious," I smiled.

	"Yes, but you better hope they don't suggest that women in
skirts pull them up to keep them clear of their legs, or you'll be in
real trouble."

	"Nope," I disagreed, "these skirts you got for me are so short
they don't interfere with my legs at all.  That's the idea, as I'm
sure everyone has noticed."

	Our flight was uneventful and soon we were waiting for our
luggage at the baggage carousel in Vancouver airport.  Kelly wandered
off to look for someone from the cruise ship line and I watched for
our bags.  In the few minutes that Kelly was gone a burly outdoors
type with a full but neatly-trimmed beard offered to help me with my
bags.  I smiled and described them, offering him our claim tickets.
Being a woman was a pretty good deal, once you had invested the time
and effort in looking good.  We made idle conversation while we waited
and I found out that he was on his way to Alaska as well, returning
from vacation "in the lower 48."  He said he had a fishing boat in the
harbor and would sail for Anchorage at first light.

	"We're going on a cruise up that way ourselves," I explained.
"Perhaps we'll see your boat on the way.  What do you call her?"

	"She's the Captive Princess," he proudly declared.

	"Oh, that sounds interesting," I mused, " is there a specific
namesake?"

	"Not yet, I'm still looking," he grinned, a hint of invitation
in his eyes.

	Just then Kelly came back with a steward from the ship in tow.
I quickly explained the situation to Kelly and she said the steward
would now take care of our baggage.  My burly seaman grudgingly
surrendered our claim checks and waved as we moved to follow the
steward.  As we sashayed away I flipped my hair over my shoulder and
looked back and waved, gratified to see his gaze had been fixed on the
orbit of my hips.

	"I've still got it," I grinned to Kelly.

	"You're terrible," she giggled.  "That poor man is going to be
all alone on his tiny boat for days with nothing to do but think about
you.  He'll probably run aground somewhere."

	"From the look of his pants, he's already found some hard
rocks," I snickered.

	From the airport we proceeded directly to the ship.  Rather
than rush the departure of passengers who had gotten rooms in
Vancouver, the cruise ship departed at 2:00 Pacific time.  Instead of
staying in Vancouver, though, we had decided to take advantage of the
time zone changes and fly out early on the same day we departed.
There was no lack of stewards to help us with our baggage and we were
soon unpacking in our cabin.  The only items of clothing I had with me
which were not designed for women were the pouched thong underwear.  I
wondered what the cleaning staff would think, but folded up they
didn't look much different than Kelly's matching attire.  We were
still unpacking when we heard a knock at the door and I opened it to
find a steward with an envelope in his hands.  The steward quietly
departed since the cruise directions had made it clear we would only
be expected to tip the staff at the end of the cruise, and I opened
the envelope.

	"Well, well, well, look at this," I smiled as I handed the
envelope to Kelly.

	"Invited to the Captain's table and we've only been on board
an hour," she gloated through her matching smile.

	"It probably won't be as much fun as we would have at a
regular table," I complained.  The Captain probably only invites rich
old farts and pretty girls to his table."

	"You're not that rich," Kelly teased.

	"Ooh, I laid myself open for that one," I grimaced.

	We made our way on deck for a tour and to watch the ship
depart, deciding for once to wear deck shoes rather than our spiked
heels.  Kelly was clearly in her element, bubbling at all the
activity, instantly friends with everyone on board.  I had become
confident in my identity so I was relaxed as we strolled along, but I
knew I would never have her effervescence.  The obvious cruise
director, all smile and clipboard, was standing by the gangway and we
moved over to her.

	"Excuse me," I said to get her attention once her current
crisis had passed, "we've been invited to the Captain's table tonight
and I was wondering what we should wear."

	She nodded to us and said, "I know, I arranged the invitation.
I watch out for those who look like they belong at the Captain's
table."

	"Thank you," I smiled, "but we still don't know what to wear."

	"Most ladies wear their nicest outfits, especially on the
first night," she explained.

	"Who else have you invited?" I asked.

	"That will be a surprise," she smiled, then turned as she was
called to handle another issue.  She excused herself hurriedly and
moved off.

	That evening as we prepared, Kelly laced me in extra tight.
Our dresses for the first night were similar to the style she had
chosen for my first party dress, with high collars and long sleeves,
and in honor of the first steps along our journey she had chosen
midnight and ice blue.  The high collar did its typical job of
concealing my neck and our tight corsets allowed the shapely dresses
to flow smoothly but snugly to the floor.  Kelly had arranged matching
slits on the outer thigh, mine on the right leg, and hers on the left.
In each case the slits were just high enough to reveal a small amount
of dark lace at the top of our stockings as we walked.  Our shoes were
the original satin pumps she had prepared for us the first night of
Brandy's existence.

	For the first time, Kelly decided to style my hair in an
upswept arrangement.  She left selected curling tendrils hanging down
but caught the majority up in an enormous bow.  It was a more elegant
look than Brandy had ever shown.  She quickly developed a similar
style for herself, though it was not as difficult since she had so
much less hair.  I looked at us in the mirror and then gave Kelly a
big hug, too overcome with the incredible transformations in our lives
to speak.

	We gathered up our discreet clutch purses and made our way
toward the dining room.  Though the staircases on the ship were broad
and gentle, I had not spent so much time carefully placing my feet
since I first learned to walk in heels.  The wisdom of the slit in the
long dresses became apparent as I gathered mine up for about the tenth
time to keep it clear of my shoes.  Finally, we reached the dining
room and I paused to settle my dress and pat my hair.  I had become so
used to the liquid flow that the upswept style seemed unnatural.

	"Ready?" I asked.

	"Girl, I was born ready," Kelly laughed and stepped out across
the room.

	I followed her with a grace I had never displayed as Ran.  The
intense training in balance that the towering heels had forced on me,
along with the many subconscious signals from skirt and hair, had
given me an awareness of my body that I had not recognized until the
long dress highlighted it as I walked beside Kelly.  I could see the
genius of Kelly's skill with cosmetics and clothes in any mirror and I
knew of the consciously exaggerated motions of hip I had learned.
However, the total impact on the dynamics of my body were only shown
by the sensuous waves rippling through the long dress.

	At the Captain's table, we saw the cruise director smiling and
showing each invited guest where to sit.  Though I hadn't thought
about it, I shouldn't have been surprised when Kelly and I were
separated by a couple of seats.  She smiled her conspiratorial grin as
she moved to her place and left me standing alone to discover that my
place was at the left hand to the Captain's seat, for which I gave the
cruise director a small smile of thanks at her compliment.  Gathering
my skirt, I seated myself carefully before the name card that read,
Miss Brandy Dewinter.  Down the table at Kelly's seat, I could make
out her own, Mrs. Kelly Dewinter.  Ah, I thought, the cruise director
wants the single girl next to the Captain.  The seat on my left,
opposite the Captain's chair, had a name card reading, Peter Thornton,
which was sufficiently bland that it didn't tell me anything except
that it would be a man, as expected.

	The lady across the table from me wore the jewels and gown of
conspicuous wealth, which I would have expected to be compensation for
a dumpy, matronly, appearance.  I should have known better since the
cruise director clearly had made careful choices.  While the woman was
older than me, a very well-preserved 50, she was hardly matronly.  She
had the hard-edged intensity that Billie Jo had displayed just a few
weeks before and a figure that showed the same commitment to physical
fitness.  I wondered if she had ever spent a few hours bound to a bed.

	Her companion was also dressed expensively, in a dinner
jacket, massive gold watch and signet ring.  However, he had the
softening features of a man who had given up on physical health and
was just drifting toward oblivion. The hard-edged woman looked at me,
appraised the value of my own gown and jewelry in an instant, and
decided that I was no threat.  Her own self image clearly revolved
around money too much to worry about the competition from every young
woman she saw, unless she thought they were rich as well.

	"Hello," she smiled with graciousness carefully tuned to her
perception of my station in life.  "My name is Elaine Gardner, and
this is my husband, Henry."

	I nodded and replied, "I'm Brandy Dewinter, and my
sister-in-law down the table there is Kelly."

	"You know," I continued to her husband, "I haven't met many
Henrys, but you're the second one in a week.  The other Henry told us
that friends called him Hunk, I mean Hank."

	Kelly spluttered at my deliberate mistake, trying to keep from
laughing out loud.

	Mrs. Gardner (for this is certainly how she would expect us to
refer to her) said, "I don't believe anyone has ever called Henry
either of those names."

	Henry nodded, though whether he was trying to agree or whether
he was trying to say he actually had been called Hank was unclear, and
probably unimportant since the great lady had spoken on the issue.

	Before we could complete introductions to the others at our
table, we were interrupted by the arrival from behind me of the
Captain and the mystery dinner guest seated to my left.  They split
about my chair and I looked at the Captain first.  While I don't
expect they have a lot of grumpy cruise ship captains, one doesn't get
to command with nothing more than simple geniality.  Our Captain
Samson was somewhere in between, brisk and efficient, yet
good-natured.  He was laughing as he sat down, responding to some
comment his companion had made as they approached.  I turned to look
at the man, who had by this time seated himself, then I hiccuped to
hide my gasp.  It was the burly fishing boat skipper I had met at the
airport!  His piratical beard gave him a diabolical look, clearly at
odds with the elegant tuxedo he wore, but he smiled nonchalantly at me
as though there were nothing unusual.

	"I thought you were going to be with your Captive Princess
tomorrow morning," I challenged.

	"Oh, I just changed my mind.  My crew can take the boat home.
I'll sail with this ship as far as Anchorage at least.  Perhaps I'll
find a namesake for my boat onboard this one."

	"Do you two know each other?" the Captain asked.

	"Not really," the man whose name must have been Peter Thornton
replied.  "We met briefly in the airport but she got a better offer,
and here's the better offer," he said as he turned to Kelly.  He
introduced himself to her as though they had never seen each other,
but left me hanging without a further word.  I couldn't tell what the
reasons were for his strange behavior, but his showing up sitting
between Kelly and I was clearly no coincidence.  If he thought
pretending to ignore me was fooling anyone, we saw through that
immediately as well and I turned to the Captain to make my own
introduction.  He told me his name was John, took my hand, capturing
the long red nails, and kissed it lightly.  I could not believe the
shiver that went up my arm when he did that.  I was going to have to
remember that trick, next time (if ever) I was Ran.

	I was in no hurry to retrieve my hand, and he was in no
apparent hurry to release it, when the Lady Elaine offered her own
hand to the Captain.  He smiled at me and let me go, turning to the
grand lady, then took her outthrust hand but must have irritated her
greatly when he just shook it and then let go.  I realized that the
fisherman had turned to face the table again and was making his
introductions to the Gardners, so I turned back to him.

	Once he finished, I said "Hello, Mr. . . um . . Thornton is
it?"

	He smiled and said, "Please, call me Rocky."

	"Indeed," I grinned, "I should have known.  Did Kelly tell you
we were talking about you and rocks after we had to leave you at the
airport?"

	"Why no, she didn't.  What did you have to say?"

	I ignored the daggers Kelly's look was throwing at me from
behind the fisherman, and continued.  "She was worried that your
fishing boat might have difficulty with the rocky shores between
Vancouver and Anchorage and was concerned that you might run aground.
I told her I thought you looked like you were adequately familiar with
rocks."

	Kelly breathed a sigh of relief at the censored form of our
conversation that I reported and the meal began.  Though the menu was
the same at all tables, it did indeed seem that the Captain's table
received especially appetizing portions.  Unfortunately, tightly bound
in my corset my stomach wouldn't accept much food so I was forced to
pick lightly at the wonderful meal.

	"Is it not to your liking?" the Captain inquired.

	"No, it's excellent," I assured him.  "I just don't eat much.
I've recently been on a weight loss program and don't want to lose
what success I've had.  In fact, my appetite has diminished as I got
used to smaller portions."

	"You certainly don't look like you need to lose weight.  If
your figure were any better half my waiters would be dropping trays."

 	"Thank you, Captain, you're a gentleman, but you wouldn't
believe what I've gone through to look like this."  I smiled with
inward amusement as I caught Kelly's eye.  Her strangled giggle
threatened to burst into hilarity at any instant.

	"Why did you say you should have known my nickname was Rocky?"
the fisherman picked up the conversation from the other side.

	"When I meet a big fisherman named Peter, a reference to the
Rock of the Church is obvious, I would think."

	The great lady across the table interjected, "Interesting that
you should be familiar with the Bible.  I wouldn't have guessed it
from something about the way you look."

	Pretending to ignore the insult buried in her words, I gushed,
"Oh, Mrs. Gardner, you're right about that.  I'm hardly angelic.  But
Kelly truly is an angel and something must have rubbed off."

	I was right that she thought it only appropriate that I
address her as Mrs. Gardner, but the attention the men were paying to
Kelly and I had moved the scale of maturity.  It had been established
that we were adult women at the peak of desirability and my excessive
deference to her had transformed the distance she had placed between
us to one of age, not status.  "Mrs. Gardner" made her entirely too
old.

	"Please, call me Elaine," she directed through tight lips.

	Rocky and the Captain were chuckling with amusement at this
exchange of insults and the conversation turned to other things.
Thankfully, the meal came to a close and we all excused ourselves.
For some reason the Captain drew Kelly aside and I found myself alone
with Rocky.

	"I didn't think there were any cabins left on the ship," I
commented as we strolled to the rail to look at the water.  The
typical North Pacific cloudiness had broken for a while and an
incredible number of stars twinkled above us.  "How did you get aboard
with so little notice?"

	"I know a few people," he replied cryptically.

	I turned to lean my back against the rail and rested my arms
on it.  "Then I suppose the next question should be, why did you
decide to get on board with so little planning?"

	"I just seemed like it might be more interesting than a small
boat voyage," his smile as he said it indicated that we had crossed
into the "I know that you know that I know what you're really talking
about" sort of game.

	Then, suddenly it was not a game anymore.  Before I could
decide how to extract myself, his massive arms had surrounded me and
he was kissing me in the starlight.  While I had thought that Hunk the
stripper was a good kisser, I found in Rocky's arms that I had no real
clue what kissing a woman was about, though I could never carry this
lesson forward to Kelly.  I was no weakling for a man thanks to our
stringent exercise program, but the raw power in Rocky's embrace,
clearly held in check only through intense self-discipline was
overwhelming.  I felt sheltered and safe, soft and feminine, in a way
that my clothes and hair and laughing style had never created, and I
found myself returning his kiss with a passion I had previously only
shown to Kelly.  The hair of his beard tickled my face in a way that
reminded me of kissing Kelly as well, though it was her lower lips
that came to mind.  Whatever strange thing was happening, it was
intensely exciting.  After a few long moments, or a couple of hours, I
could never remember, he released me and stood back.

	"I suppose I should say I'm sorry," he began.

	"No," I interrupted, holding a finger to his lips.  "The last
man who kissed me tried to say he was sorry, too.  I don't know what
I'm doing wrong, but it must be something if men regret kissing me."

	"My only regret is the lack of respect I might have shown, but
no woman as beautiful as you should go unkissed on a night like this.
If it's not against the law, it should be."

	"I didn't seem to notice any disrespect," I smiled.  "Of
course, I was distracted for a while there, you might have slipped
some in while I had my eyes closed.  Are you always so law-abiding?"

	An answering grin lit his own face.  "It depends on the
temptation.  I might stray from the straight and narrow with the right
incentive."

	"And what would you consider the right incentive?" I asked
with an elegantly arched eyebrow.

	"Oh, we'll think of something," he chuckled.

	He bent to kiss me again, and I found myself responding to
him.  I rationalized that I was only acting as Brandy should act, as
any young woman would act in the arms of such a massively handsome
man, but I knew my reactions were not acting out a part.  I let my
arms flow around his neck and twirled my long nails in his hair.  His
own response was to let a hand drift lower where it found my firmly
rounded ass below the level of my corset.  He could clearly discern
the lack of ordinary panties through the thin material.  His hand
explored more fully, finding the garters and the tops of my stockings,
and finally the thin band of my thong.  My gown, makeup, and hairstyle
were all hallmarks of an attractive, fashionable woman, but they were
public messages, not out of place at the Captain's table.  His
exploring scout had found a secret message of sensuality lurking where
only a lover could find it.  His embrace tightened and he darted his
tongue deep into my mouth.

	We were interrupted by a family strolling on the deck and he
stood back in embarrassment.  I stood with my eyes still closed and
didn't move when he did except to let my hands trail down his chest as
his neck moved out of my embrace.  We were both breathing hard by that
point and as I caught what little breath the tight corset allowed, I
slowly let my eyes open in a heavy-lidded smolder and then smiled at
him through long lashes.

	"I think," I breathed softly, "that I have never been
respected like that in my life."

	He laughed and caught my arm, turning to stroll along the
deck.  "We need a more private place."

	"Hmm," I mused dreamily, leaning my head against his powerful
shoulder, "I'm glad I'm not like Kelly.  I'm much too likely to rush
in where angels fear to tread.  Just how private did you intend to
get?"  I knew, however, that I would have to find some way to refuse
to go further.  I wondered what excuse a real woman would use to
maintain an impression of sensual willingness, but clearly make an
immediate increase in intimacy impossible.  Excuse, that's the key.
What had women used for excuses?  Headache?  Too obvious.  Husband?
Already disclaimed.  Lover?  I might have used that earlier, even
claiming Kelly was my interest (always stick with the truth if it
works).  That wouldn't work any longer, though.  The passion with
which I had returned his kisses showed that there was no one else on
my mind.  I fell back on the one excuse I knew would reduce even the
most ardent suitor, if a gentleman, to embarrassed acceptance.  After
a moment to make it clear that my initial impulse was to be more than
willing to go along with his invitation, I let a pout form on my
glossy lips.

	"Oh, dear," I sighed sadly, "I'm afraid that I'm . . . um
. . . not going to be able to take you up on your so very
. . . interesting . . . suggestion."

	"Why not?" he asked with a frown, his immediate suspicion that
I was a cruel tease.

	I let a flush show on my cheeks.  After all the heat I had
felt when I first became Brandy, I had plenty of memories to resurrect
anytime I needed a blush.  "I . . . um . . . should have . . . . um
. . . . this is a bit indelicate . . . I should have checked my
personal calendar a bit better before we chose this particular week
for our cruise.  I'm afraid this is not a good time for me.  Now it's
my turn to be sorry you kissed me.  I shouldn't have led you to
believe it was worth your time to come into the starlight with me."

	Now he showed a blush of his own as he understood what I was
trying to say.  The mysteries of Eve's curse would never be clear to
men, myself included, but I had been married long enough to know the
routine.  It had the expected effect.  The irritation he might have
felt at being teased was transformed into sympathy and a clear
resolution to be a gentleman.  My rejection of his advance was not
personal, but forced on me as well as on him so he could not let it
get in the way of our friendship.  To do otherwise would admit that he
was only interested in using me for sex and no gentleman would admit
that, especially if it were true.  For some unspecified time that I
could stretch out at least for the length of the cruise, my "virtue"
was safe with him. But I flattered myself that the rocks were back in
his pants, though not as clear in the formal tuxedo as they had been
in his tight fisherman's jeans.

	"Don't be silly," he smiled, though it looked a bit forced.
"You've done nothing wrong and it was definitely worth my time to come
out here with you.  Privacy is not a requirement to enjoy your
company.  I can still 'respect' you in public, it'll just be in
different ways."

	He escorted me into the lounge where we found Kelly gaily
chatting with another of the inexhaustible supply of tall blond men
someone manufactured for her.  We strolled over to her and were
introduced, though her friend's name didn't register with me.  In his
eyes I suffered in comparison with the angelic Kelly, but I thought I
went rather well with the piratical Rocky.  Kelly caught my eye and
made a motion as though to powder her nose so I nodded and we excused
ourselves from our escorts to find the nearby facilities.

	We were barely through the door when Kelly challenged, "Where
did you go?  What did you do?"

	I grinned conspiratorially and answered, "He took me for a
walk in the starlight.  And then he kissed me.  Twice."

	She laughed.  "That silver tongue of yours is going to get you
into trouble, you shameless hussy!  He didn't throw you overboard so
he must have enjoyed it.  Why'd you come back inside?"

	I told her about the excuse I had fabricated and she started
whooping in near hysterics. "I just thought you were terrible, but I
had no clue.  You really have no shame at all.  Did he fall for it?"

	"Like a ton of bricks.  For at least the length of the cruise,
he'll be a perfect gentleman, trying to make up for an indelicate and
premature suggestion, which of course was neither if I'd been who I'm
pretending to be."

	"Do you know who he is?" Kelly asked.

	"No, not other than what I told you," I answered.  "Did you
find out something else."

	"I'll say," she grinned.  "That's why Captain Samson pulled me
to the side, Rocky asked the Captain to help him get you alone.  Rocky
owns this ship, and two other cruise ships, and about a hundred
fishing boats.  He build his fleet from scratch and still goes out
with one or another of his crews to see how things are going, not as a
passenger, but as a working crewman.  That's why he's so strong and
fit.  He could probably buy and sell that Gardner woman a dozen times
over."

	"Rich, huh," I mused.  "Now I'll have to be careful.  I
figured we could have a good time for a few days, just without sex,
and that should be enough if he's as nice as he seems.  If he's rich,
though, I'll have to find some way to keep him from spending a lot of
money on a fake romance."

	"How fake is it?" Kelly asked, now giving me the arched
eyebrow treatment.

	"Not as fake as I expected," I admitted.  "I enjoyed the
kisses.  He's big enough to make me feel delicate, which isn't easy.
It doesn't matter though, it's not going anywhere anyway.  Besides,
I'm already involved with a beautiful blonde, much prettier than the
one you have waiting for you outside."

	I reached out and tugged lightly at one of the golden tendrils
of hair framing her face and blew her a kiss.  She laughed and turned
back to the mirror so we could complete our repairs.  Still chuckling,
we finished and returned to the lounge to find our escorts trying to
appear casual in their boredom.  They gallantly took our arms and
showed us the sights of the ship, stopping in at the nightclub, the
casino, and then for drinks in a quiet bar.  I was wondering how to
gently disengage, when Kelly solved the problem with a yawn.

	"I'm sorry," she apologized.  "I really do enjoy your company,
but we got up about four AM local time, and it's been a long day."

	Our men apologized in turn for keeping us up so late and
escorted us to our cabin.  I winked at Kelly and then turned to Rocky
with my eyes closed and my shining lips raised.  He obliged with a
goodnight kiss that started out tame but quickly built into another
breathless embrace.  Once she saw what I was doing, Kelly offered
herself to her own tall blond and when I came up for air she was
looking over his shoulder at me with a twinkle in her eyes.  I tried
to decide if I were jealous at the thought of my wife kissing another
man but was too confused by my own emotions to sort it out.  I decided
I would at least act as though I didn't mind, as long as it didn't go
any further than I could go as Brandy.  Probably that was selfish, but
there it was.

	We entered our cabin and closed the door behind us.  As soon
as it was shut, I collapsed onto the bunk and fanned myself with my
hand.  "Whew!" I exclaimed, "if I could bottle that heat I could solve
the energy crisis."

	Kelly pulled me to my feet and flowed into my arms, kissing me
with more passion than she had shared with the tall blond.  I
responded to her kiss as strongly as I had to Rocky's, adding to my
confusion but confirming her desirability, to her and to myself.  I
wondered what Rocky would think if he saw me in the arms of a
beautiful woman, kissing her deeply though I was dressed in an elegant
evening gown and towering satin pumps.  If he thought I was a Lesbian,
would that shock him?  Or since I had responded to him also, would
that interest him?

	When Kelly stirred in our embrace, indicating she was ready to
be released, I looked at her quizzically.  "Thank you, my love, and I
know there doesn't need to be, but was there a special reason for
that?"

	"No," she giggled, "I just wanted to see if you had learned
anything new."

	"Shameless, simply shameless," I shook my head, accusing her
as she had accused me.

	"Right," she laughed, "ain't it great?"



Chapter 17 - A Swing and A Miss



	The next day dawned bright and cool so we decided on our
leather dresses.  I laced Kelly so tightly into her soft ivory garment
that her ample breasts threatened to spill over the top of the bustier
at any quick motion.  She had carefully crammed her tits into the
bodice of the dress so that the aureolae around her nipples didn't
show, but the erect nubs of her nipples themselves were unmistakable.
Then I helped her with the laces on her thigh-high boots.  When it was
my turn, she squeezed me first into a corset then added the dress,
lacing it as well.  The supple material of the dress was pulled
tightly enough to show the garters holding my stockings when I walked
and also made it clear that I was not wearing panties since the band
of my thong was pulled up under the corset.  Kelly didn't have to
worry about garters or panty lines since by our agreement she didn't
wear underwear with that dress.  By the time we got all the strings
pulled tight we were laughing and giggling and reminding each other
about how wonderful zippers were, especially when the time came to
undress.  I hadn't gotten any thigh-high boots of my own but I did
have a pair of black sandals with eye-catching ankle straps and heels
that were slender and elegant and very, very tall.  Grabbing the
jackets that went with the dresses, we sauntered on deck.  It was late
enough in the season that most of the other passengers were also
wearing light jackets in the cool morning air, though many of the
younger or more fashion-conscious women were dressed in short skirts.
We did, however, set a new standard for shortness of our
micro-miniskirts and height of our heels.  As we approached the
breakfast buffet, I was grabbed from behind by an unbreakable set of
arms that would have done justice to a Kodiak grizzly.

	"Good morning, Rocky," I greeted without turning around.  In
the first place it wasn't possible to move, and in the second I knew
who it must be.  He buried his face in the silken cascade of my hair
and kissed the back of my neck, then turned me around.

	"You look incredible this morning," he grinned.  "I didn't
think you could top last night's gown, but I'd forgotten how terrific
you look in a short skirt.  What a choice to have to make."

	"Beggars can't be choosers," I teased.  Since he was probably
the richest man on the ship, it was especially pointed to call him a
beggar.  Kelly struggled to strangle her giggle and looked around for
her blond.  I knew if he didn't show there would be another along
shortly.

	"Did you sleep well?" I asked politely, the twinkle in my eye
adding a question about the bulge in his pants he had been showing
when he left the night before.

	"No, you minx, and you know why," he chuckled with a better
nature than I would have shown in his place.

	"Believe me," I whispered to him, "I am sorry.  Truly, truly
sorry.  I had the same problem myself."

	He smiled ruefully at the fate that had brought us together at
just that time (so he thought) then squired us to the buffet.  By this
time Kelly had attracted a couple of tall blond suitors, the factory
must have been working overtime.  Of course, the tight leather dress
didn't impede her attraction effect.  Since she was clearly not
lonely, Rocky and I got a table by ourselves.  My tight corset kept
its usual limits on my eating and in a short while Rocky was escorting
me along the deck, providing a tour throughout the ship except for the
machinery spaces, and offering continual challenges for my high heels
and tight skirt.  I could see his amusement at my predicament, but I
could also see his interest build whenever I had to stretch the
material an extra amount.  We ended up on the bridge and he patiently
explained all the instruments and controls.  He never had told me he
owned the ship, but the deference shown him by all of the crew and his
casual entry into places forbidden to regular passengers would have
made it clear he had some special authority even if Kelly hadn't told
me.  The bridge wing was a good place to watch the humpbacks frolic
with massive grace while my hair streamed back in the breeze to caress
Rocky's neck.  Rocky was pointing out the small Pacific Whiteside
dolphins which were cavorting near the bow when I saw Kelly on a deck
below.  By now she had three blond studs in tow.  It must have been
the boots.

	"Kelly!" I called.  "Did you see the whales?"

	"Couldn't miss them!" she called back.

	That was about the only time I saw her during the daylight.  I
was able to go solo now whenever I needed to and she was enjoying the
unaccustomed attention of her hunk patrol.  The day flew by.  Somehow
Rocky and I missed lunch, which didn't matter since I couldn't eat
much anyway.  Besides, there were always buffets of wonderful food set
out for anyone who couldn't wait for the next official meal.  In a
surprisingly short time the sun was going down and Rocky stood by the
rail with me, watching the glowing orb sink into the sea with his arm
slipped around my waist.

	"Do you always wear that armor plate?" he complained.

	"I told you that you wouldn't believe what I had to do to
achieve this shape," I smiled.

	"I may have to hold you somewhere softer," he warned.  He slid
his hand down to cup my smooth ass.

	"Promises, promises," I teased as I leaned into his massive
chest, wiggling slightly to signify my pleasure at his target.

	He pulled me in front of him and reached his massive arms
around me.  He started to caress my leg, running his hand up, then
under my skirt to the top of my stocking.  His other hand moved from
my waist upward beginning to mount the swell of my artificial bust.  I
gasped with real tension though not for the reason he expected, then
moved away.

	"Oh, Rocky," I moaned, "I want you so bad, but I can't right
now.  I'm so sensitive even a gentle touch feels like sandpaper.  I'm
so sorry."

	"No," he panted, "I forgot.  It's my mistake.  Will you
forgive me?"

	"Forgive you?" I asked in surprise.  "It's not your problem."

	"Actually," he chuckled, "I guess you could call it my
problem, too.  It's certainly giving me fits."

	"You should feel it from my side," I giggled, relieved that
the situation had defused.

	He escorted me to my cabin, still breathing heavily, and I
wondered if after he left he was going to take matters into his own
hands, so to speak.  He left me waiting impatiently for Kelly who
arrived in plenty of time to change for dinner, where we again had
been invited to the Captain's table.

	I already had on my corset and we decided to leave my hair
down that evening, so I just needed to freshen my makeup and put on a
dinner dress.  Kelly needed to start with the corset and while I was
lacing her into it I casually commented, "You seem to have had a lot
of fun with your blond hunks today."

	"Jealous?" she teased.

	"I'm so confused right now I don't know whether to be jealous
for myself as Ran due to the attention you're getting, or as Brandy
since you're attracting them in teams and I only have one guy."

	She laughed at my self-inflicted dilemma.  "But what a guy.
That stud is one powerful man.  It looks like he could just about pick
this ship up in one hand.  He's rich, too.  Lady, you need to catch
him while you can."

	"What do you mean?"

	"If Brandy is going to understand what it means to be a woman,
she needs to do more than kiss a guy."

	"But I can't," I grumped in exasperation, "I haven't got the
right plumbing."

	"So improvise," she chuckled.  "Find out what he feels like,
and what he tastes like.  You've got enough equipment for that."

	I dropped my mouth in shock, "Are you serious?"

	"Completely," she said smugly.  "Are you woman enough to go
through with it?"

	I wondered myself.  "What about you and your hunk patrol.  Do
you want to try and catch a couple of them?"

	"Not really, but I hate to be a tease.  I never really teased
you as much as I'm doing with these guys."

	"So quit teasing," I suggested.

	"Oh, but I'm having fun," she giggled.

	"Then make it more than a tease," I offered.

	Now it was her turn for surprise, "You're kidding."

	"No I'm not," I said.  "Tell you what, if Brandy can do it
with Rocky, you can do it with one of your hunks."

	"Only one?" she teased.

	"Or a dozen," I teased back, "however many you can handle."

	"Whatever Brandy can do?" she asked.

	I gulped, but nodded in confirmation and we continued getting
dressed.  Our gowns for that evening were still a complementary pair,
this time in the dark wine red and pale pink originally selected for
our nightgowns.  They were tightly fitted satin up to a high lace
collar, with puffy short sleeves but long skirts that hugged our legs
down to the knees where they exploded into a wide, tapered ruffle that
left our ankles visible in front but trailed to the floor in back.
Completing the outfit were over-the-elbow gloves in shimmering white
satin and thin-strapped sandals with our traditional towering heel.
After all the tugging and adjusting was done, I tried to walk across
the room in the narrow skirt.

	"Goodness, this is impossible.  I don't think I'm making a
foot of progress with each step.  My knees might as well be glued
together," I complained.

	"I know, isn't it glamorous?" Kelly giggled.

	We left the room early, knowing our progress would be slow,
and tried to negotiate the staircases with grace and dignity.  We were
quickly laughing with the impossibility of being graceful on stairs in
those tight dresses, and relaxed into doing whatever it took.  On the
level decks, by rolling my hips forward in an even more exaggerated
swing than normal, I was able to get about a foot of progress with
each step, which seemed like a major achievement.  When we finally
reached it, we found that my place at the Captain's table was the same
as before, but Kelly had been moved to the seat previously occupied by
the vanished Lady Elaine and allowed to invite a guest.  One or
another of her blond hunks was waiting for us at the table, along with
Rocky.  The men courteously stood as we approached and held our chairs
for us.

	"You're looking terrific tonight as well," Rocky smiled.
"Tell me, how do you ladies walk in those outfits?"

	"Very carefully," we replied in chorus, provoking laughter
from our whole table.  The Captain arrived shortly and the meal began,
excellent as always.  At least, the small portions that our corsets
allowed were excellent.  Just as we were finishing an officer
approached the Captain and whispered in his ear.  He made his excuses
and left quickly.

	"Trouble?" I asked Rocky.

	"I don't know," he admitted, though I could see concern in his
eyes.  "Well, the Captain is capable of handling anything that might
have come up, or he can find me."

	We adjourned to the weather deck once again to look at the sea
and the sky, but clouds hid the stars so we strolled along, listening
to the hiss of the sea below.  As we passed into a darkened area of
the deck, before I knew what was happening, Rocky was kissing me
deeply, grabbing the globes of my ass and pulling me into him.  I
deftly turned to keep his leg from coming up between my own and
discovering my hidden secret, but otherwise responded to his kiss with
matching intensity.  Even as I abandoned a portion of my control to
the animal passion I was feeling, I could hear Kelly's admonition
echoing in my mind.  Did I ever want to do more than kiss a man?  Was
this the man I wanted to do it with?  No other man had ever made me
feel so delicately feminine and I would never be closer to pure Brandy
with anyone else, so it was now or never.

	I let one white-gloved hand drift toward the bulge in his
pants and whispered breathlessly in his ear, "My Hero, just because
I'm benched for a while doesn't mean you have to suffer.  If you won't
think me too wanton, it would really please me to pleasure you.  I
still can, you know."

	His eyes glowed in the shadows with desire and his breath
rasped roughly with his need.  He kissed me even more passionately
than before, then nodded abruptly.  Taking my arm, be led me toward
the deckhouse, pulling too quickly for me to keep up in my too-tight
dress and too-high heels.

	"Wait up, darling," I tugged back on his arm.  "Remember, I'm
a little clumsy tonight."

	"Never more graceful, my Brandy," he gallantly disagreed.
"You are a vision of loveliness and flow with more style than any
woman I have ever seen.  Walking slowly is a small price to pay for
the beauty you carry with you wherever you go."

	This got him one of my better smiles and a squeeze where I
clung to his powerful arm.  Nonetheless, he slowed his pace to the
best I could do, which involved enough hip sway to keep me bumping
into him as we walked.  He patiently waited as I negotiated the
staircases until we reached the final one leading to the deck with his
stateroom.  At that point he laughed and effortlessly lifted me in his
arms and carried me up the staircase in an intensely sensuous repeat
of the famous scene from Gone With The Wind.  Holding me as easily as
if I weighed no more than the watch on his wrist, he opened his cabin
door and carried me across the threshold into a suite that was much
larger than the cabin that Kelly and I shared.  The first room was a
sitting room which he carried me across to reach the bedroom where he
set me gently down on the enormous bed, then tenderly kissed my soft
lips.  I returned his kiss with passion and energy, anxious to proceed
before my nerve failed.  I managed to pull off my satin gloves, then
felt like ripping the long, glamorous nails from my fingers as they
got in the way as I began to fumble with the knot in his tie.  He
laughed at my predicament, though the fire in his eyes burned hotter
than ever, and gently took over the task.  I let him have the tie and
knew the studs of his tuxedo shirt would be no easier so I decided I
might be able to contribute to the zipper on his pants and reached
down to make my attempt.  His eyes widened as my fingers groped his
bulge, and he started to pant as his own fingers began to fumble
helplessly.  In a second I expected him to tear his tie in two if
necessary, but he finally got it undone and threw it away.  He pulled
off his jacket and started on his shirt buttons while I worked on his
pants, finally getting the zipper down and the other fastenings
released.

	I reached up to push his suspenders off his shoulders, then
made him hold his arms down so I could work them through the
suspenders and free his pants.  We were working frantically together
to remove his clothes, my fingers clumsy with the long nails, his
clumsy with need, and the humor of our adolescent groping hit us both
at once.  I dissolved into giggles and he answered with a deep
chuckle.

	"I'm not going anywhere tonight," I smiled.  "We can take our
time and do this like grown-ups."

	"I know," he replied, "but you don't know how bad I need you."

	"Oh, I expect I probably do," I giggled, knowing better than
he would have believed possible.

	He finished removing his shirt, slipped off his shoes and then
pants and socks.  In just a few seconds, probably faster than our
haste would have allowed if we fumbled together, he stood before me in
his thin briefs.  I stood up to face him and we kissed as I used one
hand to stroke him through his underwear, making his massive bulge
grow even further.  His kiss showed restraint and the fight to keep
his need under control, allowing me to set the pace.  His body really
was massive, heavily muscled but with minimal fat.  The years of
hauling lines on his fishing fleet could be clearly seen in the ridges
of his abdomen.  I let the long nails of my other hand trail over his
chest, twirling the curly hair which covered it.  Pushing him
backwards, I had him sit in a chair, then kneeled before him and
pulled at his briefs.  He lifted his hips off the chair so I could
slide them down.  His heavy cock began to appear, then sprang to
attention as it cleared the band at the top of his underwear.  It was
like him, I thought, rougher and thicker than mine.  The veins stood
out in sharp relief.  I could tell that the one I hid under the dress
would be longer when aroused, but not as wide.  I wondered if I could
fit him into my mouth.

	I knew my face was burning under the shadow of my hair.  A
part of me could not believe I had gotten to that point.  A part of me
wanted to turn and run.  A part of wished for a cunt of my own, so
that I could take him deeply inside of me.  In the end, a compromise
that was the one expected since my conversation with Kelly was my only
real choice.  I took the base in my hand, thrilled by the elegant
nails that surrounded it, and blew softly on the tip.  He gasped and
his eyes glinted with need, and lust, and appreciation.  I licked my
glossy lips and leaned forward but my hair cascaded into the way.  I
used my other hand to gather up the heavy mass of it and draped it
over one shoulder.  Tilting my head to keep it there I licked my lips
and again moved forward.  I knew I was stalling, but I had to work
myself up to it.

	Kelly and Billie Jo had demonstrated highly effective
techniques which I remembered in great detail.  I extended my tongue
and began to lick tentatively at the head, tasting the tiny drop
glistening at the tip.  I began to paint his throbbing cock from head
to base, licking it in smooth, overlapping strokes that left it
glistening.  I had just pulled my head back to move to the next phase,
then brought my dark red lips forward to plant a kiss on the tip when
the phone rang.

	It was as though an alarm had been triggered when I kissed his
cock.  I jerked back in shock, and Rocky groaned first with need, then
with suppressed anger.  I looked up at him with a silent offer to
continue regardless of distractions, but he numbly shook his head.

	"That's the phone from the bridge.  They wouldn't call unless
it were important."

	"So is this," I laughed, but then I leaned back out of his
way.

	He grinned in good-natured recognition of yet another sign of
the basic unfairness of the universe and went to the phone, forcing
his panting breath back almost to normal when he picked up the
handset.

	"Yes . . . uh huh . . . What! . . . What's the Captain doing
about it? . . . . uh huh . . .  When? . . . uh huh . . . Okay, I'll be
right there."

	This last few words spelled the obvious end to our
entertainment so I struggled back up onto my heels in the tight dress
and looked around for my purse.  Rocky looked at me with such sad eyes
that I had to laugh, though I went to him and hugged him in sympathy.
He kissed me deeply, but quickly, then turned to gather his clothes.
After only an instant, he reconsidered and dropped his tux, then went
to the closet to take out rougher work clothes instead.  As he was
dressing I used the mirror in his bathroom to once again refresh my
makeup.  A brush for my hair and I soon had the long waves flowing
smoothly.  With one last tug at my dress, I pulled my gloves back over
my elbows and turned to go.

	"Aren't you even curious what the call was about?" he asked.

	I let my frustration sound in my voice as I replied, "All I
care about right now is that we were interrupted.  I figure it must be
about as important as nuclear war or the Exxon Valdez or you wouldn't
be leaving, at least, you better not be."

	"Funny you should mention the Exxon Valdez.  That's closer
than you know.  One of my fishing boats is in trouble and about to go
aground.  They've got a helicopter coming to pick me up and I'll have
to go see what can be done."

	"Not the Captive Princess," I worried.

	"No, she's okay.  This one is called the Siren Song.  Could be
a bad name if it puts the boat on the rocks."

	"Will it be dangerous for you?"

	"No," he assured me.  "I mostly need to be there to make sure
nobody else takes foolish chances."

	I asked my last question with my eyes, and he shrugged his
shoulders, indicating he didn't know when he would make it back.
Nodding acceptance but with a big sigh, I again turned to go.  He
intercepted me and folded me into his massive arms, showing with
tenderness his appreciation of my offered pleasure.  I hugged him
closely as well.  I really was frustrated.  Now that I had psyched
myself up to actually suck a man's cock, I wanted to try it.  I didn't
know if I'd ever get another chance, nor if I would take it if the
opportunity appeared.

	"Walk out to the copter with me?" he asked.

	"Of course," I nodded.

	We walked along the passageway as fast as I could go, which
means an easy stroll.  I was in a glamorous evening gown and
impossibly high heels.  Rocky was in jeans and sweater, with rubber
boots on his feet.  A highly-polished panel provided a mirror for our
combination and we had to laugh at the sight.  Rocky didn't know by
orders of magnitude just how funny the combination really was, but it
cheered him up at least a little and tickled my sense of humor.  When
we reached the weather deck, the helicopter was hovering overhead.  He
hugged me at the doorway and I gave him a quick kiss on his cheek,
mostly to leave a red brand on his face for his friends to notice, but
in an instant he was gone, walking to the waiting hoist line.  As they
were helping him into the basket he said something to the ship's
officer standing there, pointing at me.  I watched from the shelter of
the doorway until he was lifted to the helicopter and disappeared
inside.

	I was turning back to the doorway when I heard the officer
call out, "Miss Dewinter . . . Brandy!"

	"Yes," I waited.

	"Mr. Thornton asked me to escort you to your cabin.  He also
indicated that you and your sister-in-law are welcome to move into his
cabin while he is gone.  I don't expect we'll see him again before
Anchorage."

	"Tell him thanks when you see him again," I sighed, "but we'll
stay where we are.  It's only two more days.  I don't think I'd like
being there without him, anyway."

	"As you wish, miss," he said agreeably.

	"Please, call me Brandy," I offered.  "I'm not special enough
for important people like you to treat so formally."

	"Miss Brandy," he compromised, "if Rocky likes you, you're
plenty special for this crew."

	I smiled and gave him a quick, sisterly hug, but I couldn't
walk at all in that outfit without swinging aggressively so I gave him
a show as well.  His eyes widened in appreciation, and I could see a
bulge form in his pants.  However, I had already psyched myself up
once that night, and I wasn't that much of a tramp, at least, I didn't
think so.  When we got to the cabin that Kelly and I shared, I heard
soft voices coming out from under the door and in my frustration I
thought how amusing it would be to burst in on them and start playing
the outraged lover.  But whoever Kelly had found, it was only part of
our agreement and I wouldn't disturb her.  I had turned to the ship's
officer to suggest we find someplace else when the door opened and I
saw one of the female cabin attendants exiting the room.  She saw us
and quickly closed the door behind her to keep us from seeing inside.
Nodding at me, she dropped her eyes and left, giggling softly on her
way.

	I glanced at the officer and said, "Perhaps I'll go in after
all, thank you for your time."

	He nodded and touched his cap, then hurried off, obviously on
the trail of the attendant.



Chapter 18 - Solo Home Run



	The scene in the cabin showed Kelly already in bed, covered by
a blanket except for arms propped under the pillow behind her head..
I asked her if she would help me with my dress and she silently shook
her head.

	"What's the matter?" I asked, a bit testily since I had been
so frustrated.

	"I'll tell you in a minute," she replied.  "First tell me
about your date."

	"It wasn't really a date.  We just started walking after
dinner."  I grinned as I began to think of the story I had to tell,
however disappointing the ending had been.  I told her of Rocky's kiss
on the dark deck, and of my offer.  When I told of how he had carried
me up the staircase her eyes widened in pleasure.  When I described
what happened in Rocky's stateroom, however, including how it ended, I
could see an interesting combination of sympathy and humor.

	"Oh, you poor girl," she chuckled.  "You must be so frustrated
right now you'd do anything for relief."

	"Just about," I agreed.  "Now will you help me out of this
rig?"

	"Can't"

	"Why not?" I demanded.

	"Lift the pillow and find out."

	Under the pillow her arms were bound to a part of the frame
around the bunk, using the leather cuffs and chains I had packed.
When I removed the blanket I could see that her legs were spread by
another chain to the width of the bunk, held in place by the ankle
restraints.  While she was clearly not under the tension of the
arrangement we used at home, she was just as securely bound and just
as completely naked, except for the key to the padlocks on its own
small chain around her neck.

	"I found these in our luggage tonight when I came back from
dinner," she explained.  "I wonder how they got there."

	"Why were you going through our luggage at this time of
night?" I asked, as I gently pinched one of her nipples with my long
nails.

	She gasped and moved sensually into my touch, licking her
lips.  "I brought Jeremy back here, you know, the blond stud, and was
going to give him what Brandy was supposed to offer to Rocky.  I was
looking for our nightgowns when I came across these instead.  They
made me think of you and all of the sudden I decided I didn't want
Jeremy any more, so I told him I had developed a headache and he left,
poor fool.  Then I had the cabin attendant stake me out for you.  I
figured if you succeeded you'd be horny, and if you didn't you'd be
really horny, so I thought you might enjoy a no-risk seduction."

	By now I had moved to her other nipple, and her breath was
getting a little ragged, mine too for that matter.  The sight of my
long red nails against her erect nipples was intensely erotic.  For
one reason or another we had not made love while I had been completely
dressed as Brandy.  Sitting there in an evening gown and caressing a
nude, bound woman was having an interesting effect on both of us.
Kelly squirmed in her bonds, trying to lift herself into my touch.

	"Oh, Brandy," she panted, "I've been thinking about our
bondage sessions.  I can see now how much you love me because I know
that when I am bound on our bed, stretched to the corner posts, your
entire attention is on my pleasure, that you bind me so that I can
abandon all control and submit completely to the sensations you bring
to life.  It is the most intense experience I could imagine.  Yet when
Billie Jo and I bound you to the bed, we used you as a tool, focused
on her experience instead of yours.  You still showed your love by
your willingness to be used.  Somehow, tonight when I saw the
restraints in our luggage I understood for the first time what this is
all about.  I decided as a sign of my love for you to have the
attendant bind me to the bed for your pleasure, not mine.  Use me.
Take your pleasure from me.  Let me show you my love tonight, in this
way."

	"Are you sure?" I asked.

	She nodded with a calm smile of acceptance, happy with her
slave status.

	"We still have a problem, though.  How do I get out of these
clothes.  I can't reach the laces on my corset without you."

	"Then leave it on, you can get the dress off and that's all
you need," she giggled.

	I stood and fumbled with the collar.  My long nails got in the
way, as usual, but I had fastened Kelly's similar collar earlier that
evening so I knew what needed to be done.  After I few frustrating
minutes the collar was loose and I reached behind my back for the
zipper.  Wriggling a little to reach it, I began to pull it down.
Kelly laughed and whistled at the strip tease I was performing, so I
began to bump and grind a little as I worked the zipper loose.
Finally, I reached the critical point and the dress slid to the deck.
I stood before Kelly in my corset, stockings, heels, and wig.  Her
eyes widened in appreciation and I resolved to make sure she had
plenty of female companionship, now that this aspect of her sexual
imagination had been revealed.  Some of it I could provide myself, but
she would need access to the real thing on occasion as well.  Pulling
the front of my thong down far enough to release my pulsing erection,
I looked in the mirror where I saw an image like something out of an
adult magazine, a glamorous woman with a massive cock.  I used to
think those pictures had to have been faked, but my own image
demonstrated the reality of that particular fantasy.

	I moved back to Kelly and began to lick her nipples while
still standing beside the bed, keeping my knees straight and bending
over at the waist so that my legs seemed incredibly long and my ass
waved in the air.  Kelly arched into my tongue, gasping with need,
matching my own need that pounded visibly in the pulses surging in my
cock.  After a heavenly, tantalizing, intensely exciting time I
mounted the bed, straddling her chest and offering the tip of my
engorged cock to her lips.  She took it eagerly, lunging forward as
far as her bonds would allow and began to suck desperately on the tip
to pull me closer to her face.  I reached down to support her head and
she relaxed into my grip.  Holding her head still I began to fuck her
face, rocking forward and back, driving deeper with each stroke.  I
considered fulfilling my need right then, quickly and easily, but I
wanted more.  I wanted her to come too, even though she had made it
clear that my own pleasure was her only goal that night.

	I pulled back out of her mouth, her groan of disappointment
reflecting a part of my own feelings as well.  Quickly reversing
direction, I lowered my hot cock back into her mouth while bending
down to search for her pleasure nub with my own lips and tongue.  I
quickly found it swimming in a lake of her flowing nectar and began to
lap it eagerly.  She strained against her bonds continually, trying
simultaneously to lift her head to swallow my cock and to lift her
hips to thrust her own need into my face.  The magic of her lips and
tongue was having its effect on me.  The long day of sensual
excitement, playing the part of a beautiful woman to my masculine
escort, culminating in my decision to dare to be a woman in sex as
well as looks by sucking my lover's cock, had built within me a
driving need for release which Kelly was pulling from me with powerful
suction.  I was determined to hold off until she came but my need was
too great and with an uncontrollable shudder I started pumping my come
into her mouth.  As is so often the case with real lovers, my own
pleasure excited her and put her over the top to come as well,
screaming with the intensity of her own release.  My pulsing cock
stuffed down her throat acted as an effective gag and her cries were
muffled, but I could hear them and knew I had succeeded in my desire
to bring her pleasure.  I collapsed on top of her as my energy was
spent into her mouth.

	I actually fainted.  When I came to, I knew first hand why
women had so often had fainting spells while bound into tight corsets.
I had been unable to breathe sufficiently to keep up with my excited
need for air and passed out.  As consciousness returned, I heard
Kelly's muffled attempt to rouse me, but my cock still gagged her so
her sounds were muted.

	I rolled to one side and as my cock popped out of her mouth
she asked worriedly, "Are you okay?"

	"Yes," I smiled, "but this corset is a challenge."

	She laughed in relief, then watched as I began to release the
locks holding her and massage her arms and legs to relieve the
stiffness that built so quickly when bound without the tension of the
bungees.  In a moment, we were hugging each other and then moving to
get ready for bed.  Kelly loosened my corset laces so that I could get
undressed and in a short time we were lying in each others arms
asleep.

	The next morning was the coolest we had experienced and it was
clear that short skirts would not be reasonable if we went on deck.
Long skirts, except as part of a glamorous evening gown, were clearly
not part of Brandy's style or even Kelly's any more.  We hadn't even
packed any.  So far, I had used skirts to hide the bulge made by my
masculine parts, but we had brought along some special equipment in
case I decided to try pants.  Clearly Brandy would have to wear
tight-fitting pants just as she always wore body-conscious skirts and
dresses so we had to take particular care not to reveal an
inappropriate bulge.  Our tactic was to bind my cock tightly with
special wide tape that smoothed the shape into obscurity, making me
glad that I was so closely shaved since it was clear the tape was
going to take with it any hair it contacted when we finally removed
it.  Detaching the garters from my corset, Kelly cinched my waist into
it's required shape after which I returned the favor.  We both dressed
in stretch pants and sweaters, anoraks we had purchased for the
cruise, and warm boots.  This would actually be the first time Brandy
had gone public in unisex clothes and I had to wonder how much the
success of my new identity had been due to the overpoweringly feminine
styles I had worn.  Actually, this might be the most difficult test of
all since the only tools I would have to declare my femininity were my
long hair and makeup.  The rest would have to be personality and
mannerisms without the protective camouflage of feminine clothes.

	However, it worked well.  My new persona was sound enough to
be sustained with only minimal help, though Kelly's magic with
cosmetics and the long, silky wig were still very important.  We spent
the day together since Rocky was gone and Kelly had tired of her blond
hunk patrol.  The ship passed by glaciers and icebergs.  We saw a bear
feeding in a stream.  Once, as we sailed along we saw a pod of killer
whales, their wickedly powerful teeth gleaming in a strange parody of
a smile.  The mannerisms of femininity had become habitual so I could
maintain my softly singing voice, graceful hand movements, and sensual
hip sway without concentration.  Even with the anoraks hiding our
corseted shapes, there were still plenty of men who attempted to
attach themselves to us.  We flirted happily but never let anyone stay
with us for long.  It was such a relief to be able to walk easily
without high heels and to sit casually without careful attention to
short skirt coverage that we decided to stay in our stretch pants all
day.  We grazed at the buffets and sent our regrets to the Captain's
table rather than get dressed for dinner, though this was the last
night of our cruise.  Spending the day together in a more relaxed
state reminded me of how much fun Kelly was to be with and made me
more grateful than ever that she was the companion of my life.

	The next day was our last on board.  Kelly had insisted on
packing by herself, with a mysterious smile on her face.  We would
disembark that morning and planned to catch an afternoon flight home.
Though it was cool we decided on leather mini-skirts and high-heeled
shoes, adding fluffy fake fur coats to maintain some warmth.  Our
long, shiny legs worked their expected magic and we had plenty of
offers to help with our luggage.  Kelly took care of the destination
tags on our bags, again showing a strange smile.  We did some
sightseeing around Anchorage for a while, which was a typical modern
city not too different from others we had seen until we happened upon
a harbor area.  There were dozens, maybe hundreds of floatplanes at
docks or tied to anchor buoys and we talked about how interesting it
would be to depend on bush planes to go everywhere rather than simply
driving.  Our tour of Anchorage delivered us to the airport in plenty
of time for our flight, again collecting multiple reminders about our
spiked heels.  At the gate, however, Kelly only offered one ticket to
the attendant.

	"Where's mine?" I asked.

	"Right here," she grinned as she handed it to me.  "Your
flight is tomorrow."

	"What?"

	"You heard what I said," she laughed.  "You need to solo for
real.  I separated out your things and sent them to the Hilton.  You
have a room there for the night."

	"So that's why you had me dress in a front-lace corset today,
and why you insisted on packing by yourself."

	"Yep," she confirmed with a smug smile.

	I wanted to be angry at her trick on me, but I couldn't be
convincing.  The idea fascinated me.  Though I had spent large parts
of many days by myself as pure Brandy, I had always had her around at
periodic intervals to make sure I was not unraveling in some way.
Kelly knew I was using her for a crutch and had decided to kick her
pupil out of the nest.  Instead of being angry, I hugged her and put
the ticket into my own purse.  We found a secluded corner not too far
from the gate and when they called Kelly's flight I gave her a deep,
loving good-bye kiss that was entirely appropriate for husband and
wife, but would have raised a lot of eyebrows if we had done it
publicly.  Patting her on her short-skirted fanny I sent her on her
way and then left for the hotel.

	My luggage had been delivered directly to a room and I quickly
checked in.  Even though I had no bags that needed carrying, I found
several bell boys waiting to escort me to my room.  Smiling with the
cool amusement that provided armor for a beautiful woman, I let one of
them lead me to the elevator, and then to my door.  I gave him a small
tip since there were no bags, but then kissed his cheek and he seemed
satisfied.  My deep red lipstick left a record of his task and I
wondered what he would tell the others.

My bags were at the foot of the bed and I started through them to
discover if Kelly had made choices I could live with and found that
the clothes that Kelly had packed were those that I could put on by
myself.  She had included the front-lace corsets and dresses which
zipped.  I found enough outfits, including lingerie, to last for at
least a couple of days.  I even found the stretch pants and tape in
case I wanted to wear something more casual.  Nonetheless, for that
evening I selected the short, midnight blue dress I had worn on my
debut as Brandy.  Since it was already late afternoon, I changed
immediately so that I could find someplace to have a drink before
dinner.  My suntan stockings were replaced with a dark, seamed pair,
and I slipped the deep blue satin pumps on my feet.  I had never tried
to fasten my own collar behind my neck where I couldn't see what I was
doing, and my long nails nearly made it impossible, but I persevered.
The zipper was another challenge.  By the time I was done I wondered
if I would have to undo it all and find another outfit, but eventually
I was checking my reflection in the mirror and finding it acceptable.
Actually, I found it incredible.  Brandy really was a beautiful woman.
The fake fur coat worked well enough with the midnight blue dress as
well, so I grabbed it and my purse and locked the room behind me.

	As I crossed the lobby I could feel everyone's eyes on me.
Once upon a time I would have been sure it was due to people who could
see through my impersonation and were about to laugh and point.  Now,
I knew it was interest on the part of the men and jealousy from the
women as I swayed on my way with cheerful pride.  The concierge was at
his desk and I sauntered over to him

	"Could you tell me a good place to get dinner and a drink?"

	"The hotel lounge and restaurant are excellent, miss."

	"Please," I pleaded, resting my long nails lightly on his
sleeve, "call me Brandy.  I'm sure your hotel would be an excellent
choice, but I feel like going out tonight."

	He flushed when I touched him and did not reply immediately,
but he pulled himself together with an obvious effort and looked up
into my eyes.  This was probably another mistake on his part, because
the deep midnight blue with which I had legitimately been blessed was
a serious distraction in its own right.  He coughed to clear his
throat, or start his breathing again, and looked down at his notepad.

	"What style of food were you interested in?"

	"Oh, something local.  It would be foolish to come all the way
up here and then have Mexican food," I chuckled.

	"Andrew's has the best sea food in Alaska, I believe, and that
means the best in the world."

	"Sounds good, would you call me a cab?  And try and get me a
table?  I'd be so very grateful," I breathed softly to him, implying
that my gratitude could be a very worthwhile thing to obtain.  He
jumped up so fast you'd have thought he was a marionette whose strings
had been jerked and I smiled inwardly at the special privileges given
to beautiful young women as I walked after him.  By the time I got to
the curb there was a cab waiting.  The concierge held the door for me,
and held out his hand to help me into the seat.  I fell off my high
heels as usual and swung my smooth legs into the cab.

	The sights of Anchorage flowed by the windows and I caught my
reflection in the glass.  I chuckled silently when I realized that my
first thought had been to check my hair and makeup, though I could
remember a time when every reflection had resulted in an instant of
failure to recognize that I was the person imaged, then shock that I
was dressed as a woman, then pleased surprise that I looked so
gorgeous.  Now, all those things were what I normally expected and I
used the reflection to check mundane details, just as any other woman
might do.

	Andrew's was down by the harbor and combined a pseudo-rustic
exterior with a quietly elegant interior.  There was a coat check
room, more useful in Alaska than in the warmer climate at home, and I
left the fluffy coat with the attendant.  The concierge had arranged a
reservation but there would still be a wait so I strolled into the bar
to get the planned drink.  Since I wasn't particularly interested in
sitting alone in the bar, I just got my white wine and then began to
look at the obligatory nautical pictures on the walls.  Andrew's decor
provided a history of fishing off the coast of Alaska, from Eskimos in
kayaks through sailing whalers to modern trawlers which reminded me of
Rocky's emergency and I wondered if he were okay, and if he had been
able to save his fishing boat.

	While I waited for my table I fended off several invitations
from the local stud patrol.  After working myself up to such a fever
pitch in my attempt to carry through with Rocky, I was just not ready
to start another relationship and so used the cool amusement look as
usual to reduce suitors to stumbling incoherence.  I still had
sufficient memories of being on the other end of that look to hate to
use it on nice guys just trying to provide pleasant company, but it
was effective and perhaps more gentle than outright rejection.

	"Brandy," I heard a deep voice say.

	I turned around and saw a big man at the bar, ordering a
drink.  I assumed he had spoken and I had just confused his drink
selection with my chosen name.  It was dark in the bar, and I had been
looking at the lighted pictures so I couldn't make out much about him,
but I mused to myself that in the shadows he bulked as big as Rocky,
which made me sigh with regret at lost opportunities and turn back to
the pictures.  A shadow moved faintly over the wall, washed out by the
illumination of the pictures, but I felt as though someone had come to
stand behind me.  The look of amusement assumed its place on my
features as I waited for some sort of opening line.

	"Could I help you with your luggage, miss?" a voice whispered
in my ear.  I turned to see Rocky and without conscious thought I was
in his arms and kissed him deeply.  He returned my kiss with compound
interest, though he struggled not to spill his snifter of brandy.
When the initial flood subsided, I was embarrassed at a display of
emotion I didn't even know lurked within me.  I had thought my
reminiscence about Rocky was idle regret at a mystery still hidden,
but I realized that I considered him more than a casual acquaintance.
I drew back in his arms, though I could no more have broken from his
embrace by my own strength than I could have twisted railroad spikes
into pretzels.

	"Is that your only opening line?" I asked with a smile.  I
tried to regain an easy nonchalance, but I knew the heat on my cheeks
was giving me away.

	"No," he grinned, "only my best one.  At least it had far and
away the best results.  I only use it for special occasions, though."

	"Indeed?" my arched eyebrow invited further explanation.

	"Yep, I only use it on the most gorgeous woman in the state,
and then only if she smiles."

	I suppressed a girlish giggle but the smile he asked for broke
through, then I hugged him closely and tried to sort out my own
feelings.  Perhaps a more casual conversation would help.

	"How'd your boat turn out?  Did you keep the . um . Siren Song
off the rocks?"

	"Yes, we were able to get her under tow and then it was just a
case of taking due care until we reached port."

	"You brought her all the way to Anchorage?"

	"Goodness, no," he laughed.  "We put her in not twenty miles
from where I left the ship."

	"Then what are you doing in Anchorage?" I blurted, then caught
my breath as a possible answer came to me.

	His grin confirmed my guess.  "You wouldn't believe how much
trouble I went through to find you.  If I hadn't owned that ship so I
could get a hold of the steward who sent your bags to the hotel, I
probably never would have found you.  The concierge told me you were
coming here, but he thought you might have stopped off somewhere else
for a drink, first.  That's why I was just standing around ordering
one of my own when I saw you."

	I heard another voice calling for Brandy, and realized my
table was ready.  We strolled arm-in-arm to the table and Rocky told
me all about his nautical adventure.  I thought it had probably been
much more hazardous than he was letting on but I was still too busy
sorting out my own emotions to probe into his story.  The meal passed
in a sort of daze.  Rocky ordered for both of us.  I tasted everything
and it was all wonderful, but of course I still couldn't eat much
since my corset was as tight as ever.  The candlelight on the table
set highlights in the deep sheen of my dress and reflected in the
shine in his eyes.  I wondered if my own eyes were as bright, and
figured that they were probably dull due to my confused and distracted
thoughts.  At some point we were finished and he was offering his hand
to me to help me stand.  I took it and found my fingers intertwined
with his as we left the restaurant.  He was cheerful and exuberant,
filling in the conversation when I did not carry my own share.  I
thought of Kelly now a thousand miles away and wondered if she would
still offer the same advice.  I knew I wanted to continue what we had
started on the ship, but I had to sort through the conflicting
emotions and needed to psyche myself up again.

	Before I realized it we were at my hotel and my car door was
being opened.  I gracefully swung my legs out together, knees clamped
in automatic reflex to preserve my modesty in the dangerously short
skirt and it seemed only an instant later that we were in the
elevator.  I had taped my masculine package as tightly as I would have
in pants, considering it practice at the time, but I felt that I was
better hidden than usual so I molded myself to his massive body and
raised my lips for a kiss.  He surrounded me with his immensely
powerful arms as he obliged, driving his tongue into mine with a
passion that seemed like it must have been continuously building since
our time together on the ship.  I felt myself respond to that emotion
with my own passion, and my confusion melted away into determination
to serve this man so well he would never doubt that I was a true
woman.  He reached again for the globes of my ass and I wriggled into
his touch.  Then I felt one hand begin a journey toward my artificial
tit and I had to stop him.

	"I'm sorry, darling, truly.  But I'm not ready yet.  It will
be at least a couple more days.  It would so please me to pick up
where we left off, though."

	The pulse I felt in his unfettered bulge provided an
undeniable answer.  The door opened and he swung me up into his arms
as though I were lighter than air and strolled down the hall with my
arms around his neck and my tongue tickling at his ear.  I felt the
breeze of our motion on the exposed cheeks of my ass as we walked
along and prayed that he would not discover my secret.  I wanted him
to cherish the memory of Brandy as I would cherish my memory of him,
and I was sure he would not understand how I had gotten to this point.
I wasn't sure I understood it myself.  I pulled one arm from around
his neck and began to work at his tie even before we reached the door.
Since I knew how to handle conventional neckties much better than the
tuxedo tie he had worn on the ship, I had it stripped away by the time
we reached my room.

	"Do you have your key?" he asked.

	"Oh, yes, it's right here . . somewhere."

	I held my purse in the hand that went behind his head and went
through it with the one that held his tie.  Rocky laughed as I fumbled
trying to see around him.  I stuck my tongue out at him and quickly
stuck his tie over his shoulder.  He pretended to try and bite my
tongue and we ended up locked in another timeless kiss.  Eventually I
found the key card and he swung me around to where I could put it in
the slot, still holding me with as little effort as I held the key
card.  If his breathing was a bit heavier than normal, it was as
likely to have come from our kisses as from the strain of holding my
large-for-a-woman body.  More likely.  We entered the room and I
squirmed to be let down, then he set me on my feet as carefully as he
would a china doll and I tossed my purse to the side as I resumed my
efforts on his clothes.  Rocky captured my hands, making them seen
tiny in his massive grip, and lightly kissed the long, slender nails.

	"We've been through this before.  I can get it done quicker by
myself."

	I giggled and nodded at the correctness of his statement and
stepped back to let him work.  As he used his hands on his clothes, I
reached for his face and pulled it down to mine for a deep, lingering
kiss.  Somewhere in there his hands stopped and when we broke for air
his arms were back around my corseted waist.

	"You don't seem to be making much progress," I teased.

	"You're not letting me alone long enough to finish," he
offered in excuse, though he clearly did not intend it for a
complaint.

	"Well, I had to have something to do to pass the time while
you dawdled."

	"I'll show you dawdle," he warned, but his hands moved back to
his clothes and this time I let him finish.  In a moment, he was
standing before me in his thin briefs, his hard bulge clearly
outlined.  I reached out to lightly stroke his hidden treasure with
the tips of my long nails and he gasped, the answering pulse in his
rock-hard briefs threatening to split the material in two.

	"Hi there, sailor, been a long time at sea?" I giggled

	He caught me in his arms and crushed me to his chest.  If I
hadn't had top quality falsies the pressure would probably have
wrecked them and revealed my secret, but they held up.  When he
released his bear hug I let out a gasp of my own, for the pressure of
his embrace had driven out what little air the corset allowed.  I
laughed and reached down to strip his underwear to his ankles and his
raging erection pounded forth like a beast from a cave, searching for
a target.  I caught it in my hand as he stepped from his shorts and
led him to the bed where he sat on the edge and leaned back as I knelt
between his legs, examining his cock in fascination, remembering some
details but noting others I had missed.  I used my long nails to
lightly scratch at his balls while I continued to hold him in my other
hand.

	"Now, let's see, where were we?" I teased.

	His answering growl was too incoherent for a clear threat, but
his need was too great to allow him to be teased much more.  I blew on
it softly with my warm breath and provoked a groan.  My tongue
followed my breath and once again I used it to paint his hot red cock
with a glistening overcoat.  A kiss followed my tongue bath and I was
where we had been interrupted before.  Again I licked my shining lips,
then opened my mouth and took the head inside.  Then I let my lips
close behind the head and gently licked the tip inside my mouth.
Before I started to stroke on him I sucked on the tip, flicking it
lightly with my tongue.  The salty taste from the bead of moisture
that had been trembling on the tip of his cock was interesting, not
bad at all, and the incredible softness of the head was amazing.
Rocky lay back with his eyes closed and his mouth open, breathing
heavily.  His massive hands were clenched into boulders on either side
of his legs as he struggled to control himself and let me set the
pace.  I began to move deeper onto his cock, as though the suction
from my mouth was pulling my head toward him.  I moved very slowly,
knowing that I would trigger a throat reflex spasm if I took him too
deep too fast.  When the tip of his cock reached the back of my throat
I was ready and I paused to let my mind get control of my reflex
rejection of this unaccustomed intruder.  Then I let his sword
penetrate my mouth a little further to make sure I had my control of
my throat established before I began to withdraw, this time using my
suction as though I would lift his massive body off the bed through my
pressure on his tool.  It didn't work, of course.  Instead, his angry
sword emerged from my lips, glistening with a fresh shine.  I repeated
my forward motion, taking him a little faster and I relaxed my throat
to take him a little deeper as well, wondering if my success in taking
him so far down my throat was due to my commitment or something else
in my strange background, like all the extensive mouth exercise I got
when nibbling on Kelly's jewel.

	I began to pick up my pace, always maintaining in my mind the
image of using suction to pull my head toward the base of his tower,
and then trying to suck hard enough to lift him off the bed.  I kept
my tongue busy inside my mouth and breathed when he was far enough out
of my throat to allow passage of air.  Through it all, I knew my teeth
were brushing on his member, though I strained to open wide enough to
clear the massive width of his cock, but he didn't complain, unless
gasps, grunts, and frequent groans would be considered complaints.  By
now I was bouncing up and down, plunging deeply on every downstroke
and rebounding almost clear of his cock.  I glanced up at his face as
I performed my willing duty and saw the beads of sweat on his forehead
that I knew from my own experience preceded release.  I went down even
further, until I could feel him well down my throat, and was
withdrawing again when for a moment I thought I had succeeded in
sucking him right off the bed!

	Instead, it was his own back arching up into a straining
explosion.  Great gobs of thick semen filled my mouth, and I had to
reduce the depth of my strokes in order to allow my throat to swallow.
Even then I maintained all the suction I could generate and kept my
tongue vibrating rapidly on whatever I could reach.  It seemed he had
been at sea a long time since he shot pulse after pulse from an
endless supply.  I swallowed as fast as I could to keep up with the
flow and kept stroking until I noticed a reduction in the quantity
being generated and he sagged back onto the bed.  Gentle aftershocks
pulsed in his cock and sent streamers of fluid to follow the main
eruption.  I licked gently at the head to clean it, but he hunched
forward in an emergency sit-up to catch my face in his hands and stop
me.

	"That's too intense for right now.  You'll have to let me
recover."

	I smiled and let the head of his cock pop from my lips, which
provoked a small wince followed by a grin as he acknowledged my
momentary control over his great strength.  He pulled me up beside him
and hugged me as his breathing recovered, though I reached down to
make sure the hem of my dress didn't get any residual fluid dripped on
it, an unnecessary precaution since the dress was so short the bottom
was almost above his waist as we embraced.  Then I kissed him gently
on the lips and he opened his eyes with a happy smile.

	"You are amazing," he breathed.  "Where did you learn to do
that?  Maybe I shouldn't ask."

	"On you," I giggled.

	"What?  You mean you've never done that before?"

	I nodded.  "I have a small confession to make, and I hope you
won't be too angry."

	"Angry?  Right now I can't imagine anything you could say that
would make me angry."

	I knew he didn't realize what he was really saying, but I
wasn't about to try him out on my real secret.  I made up another
white lie to explain the situation that was actually closer to the
truth than my use of Eve's curse.

	"I've never been with a man before, ever.  That's the real
reason I couldn't let you do what we both wanted.  I'm determined to
save myself for the right guy and I want my first climax to be at my
future husband's touch.  But I wanted to have some skill to please
him, and I'm afraid I used you to get it.  I'm sorry if you're unhappy
with me for using you, but I promise to respect you in the morning."

	He grinned wildly and wrapped me in his arms again, taking
this small confession as a sign that I wanted our relationship to be
based on full and open truth.  I wished that were really the case as I
smiled into his warm eyes, also wishing that I had the right set of
plumbing for him.  Oh, well, some things just can't be done.

	In a few minutes he began to feel chilled in the room and got
up to dress.

	"Would you like a nightcap," he asked.

	"No thanks," I smiled.  "You wouldn't believe what I have to
do to get ready to go out in the morning.  I have an early flight.
Would you be too disappointed if I just kissed you good-bye?"

	"Nothing you could do would disappoint me.  When will I see
you again?"

	I dropped my head and sighed sadly, "Never."

	"Why not?" he asked in alarm.

	"I told you that I have many sins in my background, and
secrets I could never tell anyone.  It's true that I've never been
with a man but in most other ways you really don't want to know who I
am.  The only reason I let myself get close to you is because I
promised myself I could make it a good memory for you.  If you found
out any more about me, it would taint our time together forever.  I
can't see you again, ever."

	"There's nothing you could have done that's that bad," he
denied.

	"Trust me in this if you ever trust me in anything.  You don't
want to know.  Please, let this end on a happy note.  I so enjoyed our
time together.  Let that define our memories of each other.  Please,"
I pleaded as gently as I could.

	His shocked eyes showed his refusal to believe, but after a
moment he nodded.  I was a little surprised he gave in that easy, but
was glad it had ended quickly.  I watched tentatively as he finished
dressing, not knowing if he was quietly angry or just thoughtful.
When he finished he held his arms out to me and I flowed into them,
kissing him happily in gratitude for accepting my demand to close out
this chapter in our lives.  After a timeless, instant, eternal moment
he was gone.  As the door closed behind him I felt tears fill my eyes
and wondered just how far from Ran I had come.  My rest that night
began uneasily, but somewhere during the dark I came to an emotional
completion with the adventure and then slept soundly.

	When the alarm rang that morning I decided on a more casual
look and resurrected the second outfit I had ever worn as Brandy,
denim skirt, red lace blouse, and sky-high sandals.  I donned a red
front-lace corset, suntan stockings and tight, tiny thong underwear.
Since Kelly was not there to help me with a final check, I took extra
care with my makeup and hair, achieving the spectacular results she
had taught me.  The wide red velvet choker completed the outfit
nicely, though sometimes I wondered if the gloves were not even more
glamorous than my long red nails.  I allowed plenty of time to get to
the airport and was checking in at the flight counter as soon as the
attendant arrived.

	"Weren't you here yesterday?" she asked with a frown.

	"I was just seeing off a friend," I explained.

	"If you were here you should have known better than to wear
those shoes.  You'll have to remove them if there's any trouble with
the plane."

	"I know," I smiled, wondering what the world's record was for
number of times that warning had been given.

	After an uneventful flight, I called Kelly from the airport.
She bubbled happily and came to meet me.  By the time my luggage
arrived, or so it seemed, she was there.  I hugged her like a
long-lost lover, which was exactly true, and we hurried home.

	"I've missed my back rubs," she complained.

	"Me, too," I grinned.  "Wouldn't Billie Jo give you one?"

	"Not the same," she snickered, "we tried."

	"You did?" I laughed.  "How'd it go."

	"Just about as wonderful as possible, without a man around.
In other words, not too great.  The exercise was good, though.  I've
lost another 2 pounds."

	"You better stop before you waste away," I warned.  "You don't
have any spare to lose, except in valuable territory."  I reached out
and tweaked her nipples through the fabric of her blouse.  I had
noticed that she was not wearing a bra, and wanted to let her know I
appreciated it.

	"Stop that," she demanded, but her laughter showed her
pleasure at my interest.

	"I wondered if you would come back to me at all," she smiled
tentatively.

	"Don't ever doubt it," I assured her.  "There's no other woman
in the world for me, and I'm not equipped to handle men.  Not that I'd
want to if it meant giving up you."

	"Maybe you'll have to think about that some more," she warned
with a note of mystery in her voice.

	"What are you talking about?" I asked.

	"You have a date," she exclaimed with a laugh.  "I set you up
while you were gone."

	"What?"

	"Dart Tanyon called.  I told him I expected you before Friday,
so you have a date on Saturday night.  You can wear your leather
dress.  I even ordered you some thigh-high spike-heeled boots like the
ones that go with my leather outfit.  You'll be a knockout, especially
when you pull your gloves off and show him your nails."

	"You didn't.  You wouldn't," I denied her claim.

	"Sure did, I even recorded the message so you could listen."

	The message on the machine confirmed her story in all
respects.  I was committed unless I stood him up, or took positive
action to stop this runaway train.  I kept telling myself to call him
and cancel out, but as each day passed I found some excuse not to, and
suddenly it was Saturday.  I had not told Kelly yet about my last
night with Rocky, and I wondered what she would think if she knew.



Chapter 19 - As Weak As A Woman



	Kelly laced me first into a new, tighter-than-ever black satin
corset, sized to maintain the maximum possible tension at my latest,
lowest weight.  She decided the tall boots and short skirt would work
better with an accent in between of creamy thigh so she removed the
garters and I went bare legged.  The strings on the black leather
dress were pulled as tightly as the new corset would permit, then
Kelly carefully laced up the thigh-high boots to make sure there was
an even, comfortable tension all along the length from heel to hip.  I
had already freshened my makeup and had been wearing the wig all day
so all that was left was to pull on tight leather gloves specially
chosen to allow room for my shining red nails.  I was just putting the
last items in my purse when I heard a powerful car pull into the
drive.

	Dart Tanyon drove a gleaming black Porsche 944 which crouched
on the drive like it was ready to pounce on Kelly's Camaro and ravish
it.  He climbed out of his side of the car to head to the door with a
powerful swagger that seemed somehow to suggest the same desire to
ravish something soft and feminine.  I had really only met him once,
that first night, and a lot of things had happened to me in the
intervening month.  Now I had a standard to compare him to from lots
of other stud patrol members who had hit on me, and certainly from
Rocky.  Considered in the light of that comparison, Dart was still a
massively handsome man, confident and comfortable in his power, but
his aggressive stride triggered a memory of my concern for Billie Jo
when she graduated from ice maiden to huntress.  She no longer
attracted the blatant studs, who preyed on those who would be
grateful, instead she now attracted the confident men who could border
into arrogance.  As Dart approached the door I began to wonder what
side of the border would describe him.

	His smile as Kelly invited him in was warm and friendly,
though, and the way his eyes lit when he saw me in my shiny black
outfit showed all the attention a girl could want.  I grabbed the
jacket that went with the dress and he gallantly helped me into it,
then escorted me to his car.  He helped me fall into the low-slung
seats of the Porsche, then watched as I swung my boots in.

	"Damn, woman, you look good in that car.  Maybe I should just
keep you there all night."

	"Well, Dart," I laughed, "you're in charge of this evening's
entertainment, but I had expected a little more than drive-through
burgers."

	"You got that right," he asserted, "on both counts."

	Dart drove aggressively, taking full advantage of the power
and performance of the Porsche.  When he had to slow behind someone,
his fingers drummed impatiently on the wheel until he could slip out
around the slower car.  His skill and control were undeniable though.
In no time we were on the freeway and heading toward town.

	"Where are we going?" I asked casually.

	"You'll see," was all he would say about it.  He asked about
the vacation I had been on and nodded approvingly when I said that
Kelly had been my companion.

	"What about your vacation?" I asked.  "Kelly told me a few
weeks ago that you were going out of town for a while."

	"That was business," he said.  He made no further comment on
his business, so I assumed it had either gone poorly or was
proprietary.  We sped downtown, stopping finally at a nightclub in a
little harder part of town than Kelly and I preferred.  He moved to my
side of the car in a few quick strides and pulled the door open,
offering me a massive hand.  I swung my boots out in a reverse of the
entry procedure and he pulled me to my feet with an easy motion.

	The hostess in the nightclub greeted him with a big smile when
we entered, "Hello, Mr. Tanyon, we haven't seen you for a while."

	"Been out of town," he grunted.  "Candy, I'd like you to meet
Brandy.  Say, you two could do a duet act."

	I smiled at the stacked blonde hostess, wondering if she
thought that hair color looked natural.  Careful, kitty, I thought to
myself, your claws are showing.  The club was relatively dark inside,
the music was too loud for comfortable conversation and I realized I
would have trouble sustaining Brandy's musical voice if I had to shout
in there for long.  It seemed we wouldn't be there long, though, based
on how quickly Dart escorted me to a table and signaled a waitress for
drinks.  She was about the first woman I had seen with heels as tall
as those on my boots.  The rest of her outfit looked a little like
mine, or at least like what I wore under my outer clothes of dress and
jacket.  She had on a black bustier and minimum g-string plus a big
smile, not much else.  I shouted my white wine order, Dart told her
something I couldn't hear, then he leaned to my ear.

	"I've got to circulate for a few minutes, Baby, wait for me."

	Baby?  That was the first time anyone had called me that, and
I began to see why women didn't like it.  This hard-charging Dart
Tanyon was not much like his near namesake in the Dumas novel and I
began to be increasingly uncomfortable with the situation.  Dart
circulated through the crowd, slapping backs, shaking hands as he was
introduced to additional people, disappearing into the gloom while I
sipped at my too-sweet wine and waited for him to return.  Instead of
Dart, a man I didn't know appeared and sat at my table without
invitation.

	"So, Gorgeous, what's a dish like you doing all alone."

	"My friend just stepped away for a minute, he'll be right
back."

	"A minute, huh, we could get a lot done in a minute."

	"I'm sure that is a long time for you, but I prefer a more
leisurely pace."

	His smile turned into something less pleasant and he reached
for my wrist.  I pulled it back away from his hand just as Dart
appeared at the table.

	"What's going on, Slider?" Dart asked the man at the table.

	"Nothing," Slider replied, his face going so pale I could see
the difference even in the dark club.

	He stood up and vanished into the gloom.  Then Dart was
offering me his hand with a gentlemanly style.  I took it and stood
up, glad to be leaving that place.  He took me back to the Porsche as
though nothing unusual had happened and we were soon roaring off into
the night, but by this time I was really wondering about Dart.  It
seemed as though every gesture, every motion toward me would be as
refined and polite as a woman could ask for, but then he would do
something that seemed out of place without apparent recognition of the
conflict.  Like calling me "Baby", or leaving me alone in a rough
nightclub while he attended to some unclear business.

	However, our next stop was a more appropriate restaurant and
we were seated within minutes of our arrival.  His eyes glinted in
appreciation when I removed my leather gloves to display my long,
graceful nails.  He tried to get me to eat a full meal, but I stayed
with the salad I had become used to, except for the special occasion
of the cruise.  It filled me up anyway within the new black corset.
Things got better in the course of the meal.  The wine he selected was
excellent, light and crisp.  The service was silent but instantaneous
whenever any need appeared.  The conversation became pleasant and
cheery as he drew from me a description of the cruise, laughing when I
described the grace of the humpbacks and showing appreciation when I
described the terrible teeth of the killer whales.  This was the Dart
I remembered from my first night in public as Brandy and I wondered
which one was the true man.

	We finished our meal and Dart asked if I wanted to go back to
his place for a nightcap but I refused gently as I pulled on my
gloves, pleading that I was tired from the trip and still not over jet
lag.  He nodded, but instead of heading directly home he took me up to
a ridge overlooking the lights of the city, then pulled the Porsche
off onto the shoulder and set the brake.

	"Come look at something," he said as he got out of the car.
He moved around to my side with his usual speed and had my door open
in a second.  I swung my boots out of the car and let him help me up,
but for some undefined reason I took my purse with me, leaving nothing
in the car.  He took my arm and we walked to the edge of the overlook
where there was a grassy area and a bench to sit on.  The view of the
city was especially clear and I looked to pick out familiar landmarks.

	"What did you want me to see?" I asked.

	Suddenly he grabbed my arms and pinned them behind me.  I
heard the click of handcuffs and my arms were quickly bound.  My
struggles were futile as his easy strength exceeded mine by more than
mine exceeded most women.

	"This is what I want you to see, bitch," he growled as he drew
his cock from his pants.  "I know you want it.  No one who looks like
you can deny you love cock.  Now, I've invested two meals in you and
I'm not going to just take you home with a wave and an
I've-got-a-headache excuse.  Give me a good blowjob and we'll call it
even."

	"You bastard," I cried, surprised to hear it come out in
Brandy's voice.

	"Maybe, but I've got the strength to do what I want, and
that's the number one rule in the world."

	He sat down on the bench and forced me to my knees between his
legs, my arms still bound behind me.

	"Come on, bitch, you said you were tired.  Do it and we can go
home.  But bite me and I'll throw you right off the fucking ledge."

	He looked down expectantly, sure of his power and of my
weakness.  I licked my lips and tried to take some consolation in the
size of his cock, which was smaller than Rocky's that I had
successfully sucked.  I opened my mouth to take the tip in, not
bothering with the loving attention I had used on Rocky and began to
stroke slowly, trying again to prepare my throat for this intruder.

	"Hurry up, faster, and I know you can go deeper than that."

	He grabbed my head and began to fuck my face, pulling me
harder and harder into his crotch.  I struggled back, gagging on his
thick tool.  Then disaster!  My wig came off in his hands.

	"What's this?" he said in surprise as he looked at my short
hair, dropping the wig as though it were an animal.  I had pulled my
head back when the wig let go and I was rocked back on the heels of my
boots.

	"You're a fucking guy!" he shouted.

	"Yes," I admitted in Ran's voice.  It sounded strange to me
since I had not used it in so long.

	"You're a damn pervert," he continued.

	"Maybe," I admitted, "but you couldn't tell I wasn't a woman,
and you sure wanted me.  What does that make you?"

	I obviously shouldn't have taunted him, though at that point
I'm not sure if anything I could have said or done would have made a
difference.

	"It makes me stronger than you, and if you want to be a woman,
I'll make you into one."

	Now I was truly frightened, wondering if a knife would end my
manhood, but he pulled me up onto my feet and then pushed me face down
over the bench, my bound arms useless to cushion the impact.  He
flipped up the brief hem of my dress and pulled the thong strap out of
the crack in my ass.  I felt the head of his cock at the entrance to
my tight asshole and tightened up in reflex, which didn't help a bit
as he rammed into me.  For a moment I wondered if castration with a
sharp knife would have been better than having my body ripped apart by
his blunt, savage attack.  A white-hot steel poker couldn't have been
any more painful, nor any harder than the massive intruder that was
violating me.  My own saliva was the only lubrication and I knew that
it must have hurt the sensitive skin of his cock to penetrate me with
so much abrasive friction.  This was rape, ugly and violent, and not a
thing of passion at all.  He stroked into me several times and then
stiffened.  I don't think he enjoyed it much, but I must have had him
close enough from my cock sucking that the tight pressure of my anal
ring put him over the top.  He pulled up his zipper, then took the
handcuff key from his pocket and threw it on the ground.

	"You tell anybody about this and I'll kill you," he growled.
Then he was gone as he strode quickly to the car and drove away in a
scattershot of gravel.

	I lay still over the bench, waiting for the blinding pain to
subside.  In a few minutes I tried to stand, awkward with my arms
locked behind me.  Eventually I was able to shift my weight and get to
my feet, tottering on my towering heels.  My first impulse was to
straighten my skirt, which was sort of incongruous in the
circumstances.  I looked around for the handcuff key and found it
where he had thrown it, gleaming softly in the moonlight.  I couldn't
reach down for it with my hands bound behind my back and finally had
no choice but to kneel down, then pivot to sit down and reach around
for it.  My probing fingers, insulated by the gloves and clumsy with
the long nails finally found it, and managed to work one of the cuffs
loose, then I removed the other and began to try and put myself back
together.  Reaching under my dress, I pulled the strap of my thong
back up, getting a fluid on my gloves that I could see was light
colored even in the moonlight.  I supposed that was good since it
could have been blood from more serious damage.  Next, I retrieved my
purse and looked in the mirror of my compact.  Actually, he hadn't hit
me anywhere that would show and my stiff corset had protected my ribs
from the edges of the bench.  My beautiful wig lay where he had thrown
it and I almost cried when I saw it hadn't been hurt.  I suppose I
would have cried for sure if he had destroyed it.  It seemed as though
I was perched on a razor edge of control, where anything good or bad
could set off a flood of tears.

	I gingerly sat on the bench, wincing at the throbbing pain
from my rectum, and tried to decide what to do.  My boots were
definitely not made for walking a long way and I would probably get
arrested if I just walked in on someone looking like I did.  I looked
again at my face in the mirror, then shook the wig out to remove any
small bits of grass or whatever.  In a minute, I had it on and was
trying in the dim light and small mirror to assure it was properly
placed.  When it was as good as I could do, I walked up to the road
and tried to decide which way to go.  There was a streetlight about a
half a mile down on the right and that was as good a choice as any.  I
started to walk that way, at first holding my butt tight instead of
letting my hips swing normally for the heels I was wearing.  As I had
learned before, that wouldn't work so I loosened up and got back into
my swaying style.  Actually, the exercise helped to reduce the pain
from my rear and soon the pain in my feet from trying to walk too fast
and too far on too rough of a road for my towering stiletto-heeled
boots seemed like a bigger problem.

	Under the streetlight I looked again at my appearance in the
mirror and touched up the damage that had been done, mostly lipstick
and a little work on blending smudges.  My boots had protected my
knees and for a wonder they hadn't been scuffed too badly.  My dress
had only been against the bench which hadn't done any real damage
either.  I was very thankful I had worn leather that night and not
some of the silks or lace of my other outfits.  I didn't feel very
pretty right then, but I looked good, not my best, but pretty good and
I decided I could pass in public so I began to look for a phone.  A
cluster of lights glowed from over the next rise and I resolutely set
out for them, wondering if I should try to flag down a car on this
deserted road if one happened to pass.  The choice was not offered me
and so I walked on until I reached the lights to see a convenience
store.  In another few minutes I was at the pay phone, fumbling for
change in my purse and then into the slot.  I almost cried with relief
when I heard Kelly's voice on the phone.  In a few minutes I had given
her enough directions and she was on her way.

	Until she arrived I passed the time in the convenience store,
ordering a coke and telling the matronly woman running it that my date
had gotten fresh and I had decided to walk home.  She asked if that
had been the "black racing car" that had roared by and I told her
probably so.  Her look told me I had asked for it, considering how I
was dressed, but my shattered expression showed I had suffered enough
to invoke a balancing sympathy reflex and she said nothing.  I asked
her to watch for my sister-in-law and went to the rest room to clean
up a little more.  Even though there were few outward signs, I felt as
though I should look dirty, soiled, and I felt a need to keep checking
my appearance every time I found a better light or bigger mirror.  I
could polish out the damage to the knees of the boots and Dart's semen
had quit dribbling from my tortured anus so there really wasn't much
to do except brush out my hair a little.  I would really need to start
over on my makeup to set it right and there wasn't any need for that
right now.  A distant part of me wondered that my reactions had all
been so stereotypically feminine.  I was more concerned with my
appearance than getting back at that bastard, and I was already
thinking of the next time I would put on makeup.  I had been pure
Brandy for long enough to make that my natural persona and my weakness
next to the powerful Dart Tanyon had made me soft in my own self
image.  It would take some time to transition back to Ran.

	Kelly arrived and I went to meet her.  She quickly picked up
on the shocked look on my face and helped me into the car without
speaking, though she winced when I winced as I sat down.  As we drove
home I poured out my story in gulps, my throat choking up on me at
times.  Her anger grew as my story unfolded, but whenever she looked
at me her face softened into near-tears of her own.  When we finally
reached our home, Kelly helped me into the house and out of my clothes
and I laid down to rest.



Chapter 20 - Business Before Pleasure



	I slept late the next morning, Sunday, finally waking to a
throbbing ache from my rectum.  The trip to the bathroom wasn't fun
but there were no signs of blood so internal injuries seemed unlikely.
I showered and shaved and returned to the bedroom, where I dressed as
usual in corset, makeup and wig.  For my outer clothes I chose a
body-conscious red knit dress with a wide black belt and choker for
accents and red sandals with the tall, tall heels Kelly had taught me
to enjoy.

	Kelly was sitting in the breakfast nook, reading the Sunday
paper when I came out.  She flung herself into my arms, crying.

	"Oh, Brandy, I'm so sorry!"

	"What are you sorry about?" I asked.

	"I'm the one who made you go on a date with that horrible
Tanyon animal," she explained as though I were too dazed to remember.
"It's all my fault for what happened."

	I disengaged her arms from around my neck and held her back
where I could look at her directly.  "Listen, Kelly," I said, "none of
this is your fault.  I'm an adult and I chose to go along with
everything I've done.  But more than that, I'm not going to let you
take any of the blame away from that bastard.  What happened is his
fault, not yours, and don't you forget it!"

	She looked at me in surprise.  I think she had expected last
night's disaster to keep me in the state of shock that I'd been in
when I went to bed.  Maybe it should have, or would have for a real
woman, but I was more mad than shocked today.  The fire in my eyes
must have wiped away any traces of a dazed look because she nodded in
acceptance.  Then she seemed to become aware that I had dressed
normally in wig and stockings, towering heels and mini-skirted dress.
More than anything this seemed to reassure her that I had come to
grips with the previous night.  She tried to recover the joyfulness
which was so basic to her nature by complimenting me.

	"I must say, Brandy, you do look stunning in red."

	This statement, in contrast to her previous concern, caused a
look of desperate sadness to fill my eyes.  I sagged and looked away,
smoothing at the soft material of my dress.  As I bowed my head, the
silken strands of my hair flowed past my face in a liquid cascade.  I
reached for some of it in soft wonder and my glamorous nails caught
the morning sun streaming in the nook windows and gleamed elegantly.
Every aspect of my appearance seemed to mock me on that beautiful
morning.

	"What's wrong?" Kelly asked as she felt the wave of sorrow
flow from me.  Then she bit her tongue as she thought she was forcing
the conversation to turn again to bad memories from the previous
night.

	"That bastard," she murmured under her breath.  "I'll kill
him."

	"No, love, it's not that," I explained.  "Getting dressed like
this has become my normal habit now and it wasn't until I was putting
on the choker to hide my Adam's Apple that I remembered I'm not really
Brandy.  Tomorrow, it's back to Ran."

	"Why?" she asked.

	Now it was my turn to look at her as though she was not
thinking clearly.  I started to explain about my vacation ending, but
she interrupted before I could even begin.

	"I'm serious," she declared.  "You're as much Brandy now as
you once were Ran.  Except for a minor matter of plumbing you're a
sensuous, beautiful woman.  Why give that up?  I love Brandy as much
as I love Ran, which happens to be quite a bit.  Having a sister is
wonderful and when I need what only a man can give, I've got that,
too.  I couldn't be happier if Brandy stayed forever."

	I looked at her in astonishment.  I had always thought her
encouragement had been due to willingness to indulge an eccentricity
of mine.  But now that she opened my eyes to it, I could see that she
had been happy for herself as well.  She loved to go out with girl
friends and giggle and chatter and flirt with other men without the
distraction of a hovering husband.  She may have dodged the advances
of her blond hunk patrol, but she had been flattered by their
attention.  This was a part of her awakened awareness of how beautiful
and sensuous she was in her own right and I could understand why she
wanted it to continue.

	"But what about my business?" I worried.

	"We've already talked about Ran taking on Brandy as a partner.
Make it happen.  Tomorrow, call your office as Ran and tell them that
you hurt your leg while on vacation and will be working at home for a
while.  Tell them that I, Kelly, will be bringing down your sister,
Brandy, who will be joining the firm as your partner to handle most of
the customer contacts while you, Ran, focus on the computer analysis
and transactions.  You've been talking about tele-commuting for a long
time and now's your chance.  You own the company for goodness sakes!
If any of your clients insist on a face-to-face meeting you can trim
your nails, wash your face, change your clothes and be Ran.  You can
change back that same evening.  Just keep making your clients lots of
money as Ran and start charming them as Brandy and they'll be happier
than ever."

	"What about the neighbors?" I continued to raise obstacles,
but it was clear that I wanted her to knock them down.

	"Who cares?  They don't own us.  If they get too obnoxious
we'll move.  The only neighbor we're close to is Billie Jo and she
already knows and approves!"

	"Maybe we could get away with it at that," I mused in dawning
wonder.

	"Sure we could!" Kelly exulted.  "Tomorrow you'll put on your
business suit and I'll introduce you to everyone you need to know as
though you were just meeting them.  You can even impress them with how
fast you learn everyone's name," she chuckled.

	My tentative smile was reflected by the joy in her face and
then multiplied as she turned on the brightness that only an angel
could display.  It would be complicated, but the chance to continue to
be Brandy would be worth almost any price.  That it made Kelly happy
as well was the icing on the cake and I resolved to make it work,
whatever it took.

	"That's my girl!" Kelly grinned as my resolution showed.

	Since she had slipped out of our bedroom quietly that morning
to allow me to continue sleeping, Kelly was still in tee-shirt and
shorts.  She went back into the bedroom to change while I sat down to
read the paper in her place.  An ad for that nightclub Dart had taken
me to caught my eye.  I hadn't really thought about getting revenge on
the bastard, but I realized that I could find him if I wanted to.
When Kelly came out she was in an ice-blue version of the short knit
dress I wore and we headed out for brunch.  The attention that men
paid to us was undiminished and we soon were back to our laughing and
flirting.  Knowing that it didn't need to end in just a few days made
it even better as the stress of a deadline evaporated.

	We headed by the mall for some shopping and were passing by a
jewelry store when I decided to formalize my commitment to Brandy by
having my ears pierced.  I had only worn earrings a small part of each
day since the pressure of the clips was too uncomfortable.  With
pierced ears I could wear earrings as much as I wanted.  The small
studs that were used as starters weren't quite up to the glamour level
Brandy typically maintained, but that would come in time.  They would
actually work for Ran since earrings were becoming more common on men,
or he could just leave the small holes empty.  In celebration of the
occasion we got a pair of heavy gold loops to use as soon as I could
wear regular earrings.

	That night I stretched Kelly to the corners of our bed and
gave her the most effective massage ever, in part because I stayed
dressed as Brandy, removing only the dress.  I used my long hair to
softly caress her body and she moaned with the delicate touch.  I
moved the bungees holding her ankles until they were high on the
corner posts, her stretched legs holding her hips up off the bed.
When I began to kiss her jewel her intense vibrations reminded us both
of how effective our bondage arrangement had been and when I finally
penetrated her with my throbbing erection she screamed with
uncontrollable emotion and began to thrash against her bonds as the
energy built up within her.  My own release triggered her ultimate
spasms and we both passed out together, her from the unbearable
pleasure, me from loss of breath in the corset.

	"I'm either going to have to loosen this corset or learn to
hold my breath longer," I grinned as I recovered.  She nodded in
understanding, but was too spent to speak.  I snuggled down beside her
to rest for just a moment but we both fell asleep, me in my corset and
she in her bonds.  Somewhere in the night she woke up and gently
called to me until I roused.  She was willing to stay bound but needed
to make a pit stop and thought we both should wash our faces to keep
our complexions clear.  After I released her, however, we decided just
to complete the proper preparations for sleep and I left her bonds
hanging loose.

	The next morning I made the planned phone call to my office,
using Ran's voice though I was already in corset, stockings, heels,
and tumbling hair.  It seemed strange to be using my Ran voice, and
stranger still to do it while looking like a lingerie model from a
high-class magazine.  My staff wished me a speedy recovery from my
injury and said they looked forward to meeting my sister, Brandy.  I
finished putting on the short-skirted business suit and was adding the
final jewelry touches when the doorbell rang.

	Kelly was still getting dressed so I went to the door and
opened it to find Rocky!  I gasped in surprise and stepped back, not
really intending an invitation.  He followed me in anyway and suddenly
we were standing in my entryway.

	"Hello, Brandy, you're looking as beautiful as ever."

	"What are you doing here?" I gulped.

	"The last time we met you were a lot more friendly," he
grinned.

	By this time Kelly had entered the room, or at least started
to as she froze at the end of the hall.

	"What is he doing here?" she asked in alarm.

	"Do you ladies practice that duet, or is it natural talent?"
he laughed.

	I wasn't laughing, and neither was Kelly.  In a moment, he
realized we really were concerned about something and dropped his easy
grin for a more serious expression.

	"Brandy, I had to see you again.  I know you told me you have
secrets you don't think you can share with me, but I just have to know
for myself that they're too terrible for me to accept.  I think I may
love you.  But if your secrets are too much for me to handle, then I
guess I don't.  I decided to camp out on your doorstep until you
either tell me something I can't live with or run out of things to say
to scare me off."

	"I'll even give you two possible things I thought up, to show
you where I'm coming from.  If you're engaged to someone else, I'll
respect that and give you my blessings and leave just as soon as you
convince me you still love him more than me, which isn't certain after
the other night."

	At this Kelly gave me a quizzical glance and I remembered that
I had never told her about the evening I spent with Rocky in
Anchorage.

	He continued, "Another possible secret you might feel you have
to keep is that Kelly is not really your sister-in- law, but that
you're Lesbian lovers.  If that's the case I want to know if you
ladies would consider expanding your relationship since I know Brandy
likes men, too, and Kelly seemed to appreciate the attention of all
those blond guys she attracted.  I'm really serious about how much I
care for you and will do almost anything to keep seeing you."

	"Now, Shaharazad, start with your 1001 tales."

	He moved to embrace me, but all of the sudden his powerful
arms reminded me too painfully of Dart, and I jerked back in panic.

	"Don't touch me," I cried.  Regaining at least a little of my
composure I added, "please, not right now."  Rocky frowned but stood
back.  He folded his arms across his massive chest and leaned against
the wall, shouting silently of his determination to wait as long as it
took, daring us to try and move him away.

	"Please, Rocky, leave.  You don't want to know."

	He stood mute, still leaning against the wall as massive as a
six-and-a-half-foot boulder.

	"You don't want to know," I murmured softy, knowing that my
argument was no argument at all, just an unsupported claim.  He just
shook his head softly, a small smile trying to defuse the tension, but
stubbornness written in every inch of his muscular body.  I drew Kelly
aside down the hallway.

	"Go get the restraints and chains.  I'm going to tell him, but
I want him bound first so there's no repeat of the other night."

	She looked at me with deep concern, but nodded silently and
went to do as she was bid.  I went back to Rocky.

	"If I tell you, you'll hate me which probably doesn't matter.
You'll feel bad about our time on the ship and in Anchorage, which I
will regret.  But worst of all, you'll feel bad about yourself which
will make me very, very sad.  Please, don't make me tell you."

	"Brandy, you've just got to recognize that this is eating at
me.  I have to know.  I tracked you here in order to put my own mind
at ease on a mystery that nags at me like an aching tooth.  I really
need to know."

	His own eyes pleaded now, not demanding, and I nodded
reluctantly.  Just then Kelly appeared with the restraints and chains
and his eyes widened.

	"The last man who found out my secret raped me," I declared
bluntly, wanting to shock him enough to get him to reconsider.  "If
you want me to tell you, you'll have to agree to be bound so that I
know you won't do the same."

	"I would never hurt you," he cried.  "I'd kill anyone who
raped you."

	"Then you won't mind being bound," I insisted with a quiet
determination that was the echo of his own.  "You can always leave,
you know."

	"No," he said, "do whatever you want."

	Kelly brought one of our heavy dining room chairs and Rocky
sat down.  I used the wrist cuffs to bind his arms behind him,
wrapping the chain through the back of the chair.  Kelly bound his
ankles to the legs of the chair with another length of chain.  I knew
his massive strength could break the chair and free him at least
partially, but I thought we would have enough time to get away if he
did.

	"One last chance," I offered, but he just shook his head.

	"Okay," I said with a deep breath.  "I'm not engaged, and not
a Lesbian, but Kelly is not my sister-in-law."

	I pulled my lustrous mane off and stood there in my short
haircut.  Changing to Ran's voice I continued, "But we are lovers
because she's my wife.  I'm a man."

	His jaw dropped, his eyes bulged and his face turned red.  I
watched for signs of violence, but instead, he sagged in his chair as
though hit in the stomach with a 2 x 4.  For a long moment he didn't
even breathe and I began to think it had been a good idea to chain him
just to keep him from falling out of the chair.  He blinked and shook
his head, then looked again as though a second glance would change
what he had seen.  His mouth moved a few times, but no sound came out.

	I stood there in my towering heels and short skirt, holding my
wig and wondering what I should do next.  It felt wrong, somehow, to
be partially dressed as Brandy.  When I was pure Brandy I had an
identity I had become comfortable with, and while I was Ran there was
no issue, but this half-and-half condition bothered me.

	Finally, Rocky began to breathe again, and swallowed.  He
blinked as though regaining consciousness.  "Well," he said, "that's
some secret.  I considered that you might have a history of crime, or
a terminal disease, or all kinds of things you might want to hide, but
I never imagined this."  He kept staring at me as though not yet
believing it.  I saw him try out a weak grin, which didn't work at all
well.  He pasted it on and kept it, though.

	"What's the line from the movie?" he asked, then answered.
"Nobody's perfect."

	I was a bit shaken myself from having my secret exposed not
once but twice in a couple of days, so I didn't respond.  But Kelly
knew the reference and decided to try and get a conversation going to
fill the stunned silence.

	"That's from Some Like It Hot, when Jack Lemmon takes his wig
off," she explained.

	"See?" Rocky asked.  "You're not so unusual after all, except
for being unusually beautiful."

	His grin was a little more real, now, and I began to think he
didn't find me as terrible as I had feared.  I looked down at the wig
in my hands and I just couldn't stay in the half-dressed condition so
I caught Kelly's eye to watch Rocky and went to our bedroom to put my
hair in place.  In a few minutes thick waves were flowing back to my
waist with their usual grandeur and I returned to the entryway where
Kelly was releasing Rocky from his cuffs and talking to him.

	"So you see, one thing led to another, it's all my fault
really," she said.

	"Kelly!" I interrupted with a warning tone.  Since I was
properly dressed again I found myself using Brandy's musical voice.

	She looked sheepishly at me then said, "Well, maybe not my
fault, but at least my ideas.  I urged her on every step of the way.
She only saw you again after the first night on the ship, when you
kissed her, because I told her if she were to be pure Brandy then she
had to react as a woman would.  I even told her to take you to bed and
pleasure you in whatever way she could."

	"Everything I did, I did because I wanted to," I declared.

	"Everything?" Rocky asked.

	"Right up until I got home.  This is the only time with you
that I regret in any way," I affirmed.

	He nodded, still sitting though he was now free of his chains.
Rocky had a thoughtful look on his face, clearly trying to absorb the
shock of my secret.  His eyes were looking with a gaze that focused at
a thousand miles, or at minus 3 inches.  After a few more minutes of
awkward silence, he shook himself and a wry grin appeared.

	"I was prepared to share you with Kelly if you were a pair of
lovers.  I'm surprised to find the idea still interests me.  Maybe I
just haven't absorbed the reality, but as long as you look like that,
I find myself remembering the ship and Anchorage and not caring as
much about what's under your skirt as I would have thought."

	Now it was my time to be shocked.  I had been sure he would at
least storm out of the house when we let him loose.  Yet here he was
sounding like our relationship was not over, just redefined.  Kelly
was sending me urgent telepathic signals requesting an explanation of
Anchorage, but I ignored her.  Plenty of time for that later.  I stood
before him with my hands on my hips, not realizing that I had stopped
in mid-swing and had struck a sensuous pose.  All of the sudden he
stood up and embraced me.  I stiffened in shock, still remembering
Dart's massive arms, then I jerked free with a frightened cry and
stumbled back.  He reached for me again, but Kelly intercepted him.

	"Don't!  Didn't you listen?  The last man to find out her
secret raped her!  Don't grab at her now!"

	"What do you mean?" he asked.

	"Just what I said," she replied.  "I arranged a date for her
on Saturday night after she got back from Anchorage.  That's another
thing that may not be my fault, but I certainly had a part to play in
what happened.  Anyway, her date took her to a lonely road and
demanded a blowjob as payment for dinner.  He was pulling on her hair
to force her face to his crotch when her wig came off.  When he
realized who she really was, he got so mad he turned her over a park
bench and raped her in the ass.  Do you wonder she doesn't want to be
touched by a man right now?"

	The confused look on Rocky's face transformed first to sorrow
then to anger as the story poured out of Kelly.  He started to reach
for me again where I stood a few feet behind Kelly, but stopped his
hands before they had more than twitched.  His face softened as he
looked at my wild eyes and pale complexion.  Gathering Kelly into one
massive arm, he pulled her to the side and reached out one open hand
to me.  He still held Kelly in his embrace to demonstrate a gentle
control and patiently held the other hand to me, waiting for me to
make the next move.  I found my hand moving toward his as though
controlled by someone else.  I watched as it reached his hand and was
enfolded within his massive grip, now controlled to a pressure as
light as a summer breeze.  He pulled gently and I came to him.  In
another instant I had flowed into his embrace as he surrounded both
Kelly and me with arms large enough to protect us from all the
troubles in the world.  In a moment, Kelly and I were both crying,
trailing mascara down our cheeks.

	"I guess that settles it," he said gently.  "I'm not sure just
what other people would call what I feel, but I want to help you and
protect you and most of all I want to keep seeing you, both of you.
Brandy, I'll treat you however you want to be treated.  I can ignore
as though I never knew it, anything you don't want to be part of our
relationship.  Kelly, the love you've shown Brandy plus the fun that
poured out of you on the cruise make it clear that you're a special
person, too.  I would be proud if you would let me into your life on
whatever terms you want.  Or tell me to go, and I will."

	I looked at Kelly, who was looking at me, and in a second we
were laughing and crying at the same time.  We both hugged Rocky, and
his arms tightened around us in an embrace that was not threatening,
only comforting.

	"This will be complicated," I murmured into his powerful
chest.

	"More than we probably know," he agreed.  "But I'm willing if
you are."

	I looked at Kelly and saw the streaks down her face, then
realized that I must look the same.

	"Oh, my!" I exclaimed as I drew back.  "I must look a fright.
I have to go repair the damages."

	Kelly laughed and followed me into our bedroom, calling to
Rocky to make himself at home.  We had to strip our faces down
completely and start over, which meant we had to take off our blouses
and it must have been 15 minutes before Kelly was done.  She headed
out to entertain Rocky while I finished my own repairs.  In another 20
minutes I was done as well and I swung out to the living room to find
them laughing together.

	"You should have seen the look on that geek's face when we
caught him in the act of dropping his spoon.  If Brandy hadn't been
graceful even in heels and could dance away, he would have really had
a sight!"

	"What lies have you been telling about me, now?" I questioned
with a laugh.

	"True, all true," she giggled, but her laughing eyes showed
that some embellishment had happened.

	I caught Rocky's eyes and suddenly we were serious.  Kelly
picked up on the mood, too and quietly waited for us to resolve
whatever issue had captured us.

	"Who do you want to be?" he asked.  "What do you want to be?"

	"I'm not sure," I admitted.  "For right now, I guess I want to
be Brandy Dewinter, a unique person.  I want to be a beautiful woman
who has a very special ability to use to give Kelly pleasure.  That
also means I lack one particular ability I could have used to give you
pleasure.  Can you deal with that?  Both of you?"

	Kelly nodded immediately since we had already defined
ourselves to each other, but Rocky had to think about it.  I didn't
blame him.  I'm not sure how I would have reacted if I had come into
this from the outside.

	"I can't honestly say what I think about all this," he
explained.  "For now, let's keep ourselves on the level we had at the
ship.  I'll enjoy your company, but no intimacy.  Is that okay?"

	"It works for me if it works for you.  I enjoy your company,
too.  Speaking of company, Kelly and I have an appointment."

	He raised an eyebrow in invitation to explain further.

	"I, that is, Ran owns an investment consulting firm.  We're
going down to introduce the staff to his new partner, his sister
Brandy.  We need to get going."

	"Are you a good investment counselor?" Rocky asked.

	"Very good, actually.  My track record is better than most of
the big Wall Street firms," I declared.

	"Then take me along with you," he suggested.  "You can gain
some points with the staff by bringing in a big account, mine, and
they won't feel you're intruding on their success."

	"You don't have to do that," I said.

	"I know," he affirmed, "but you said you were good.  I'll just
start out small, at about half a million, and see what you can do with
it.  As successful as you are at things that you set your mind to, I'm
not worried."

	We headed downtown to Ran's office and Kelly introduced me to
his staff, two secretaries and a part-time accountant.  The important
new client didn't hurt in building confidence with them.  I had a
pretend phone call with Ran to decide where to start with Rocky's
money, talking to our answering machine while the staff listened to my
end.  Coincidentally, Ran's suggestions were exactly the ones that I
considered best.

	The three of us went to lunch at an upscale businessman's
restaurant where Rocky drew a roomful of admiring looks from the
executives at the other tables, though there were questions in their
glances as well.  Kelly and I were dressed too formally for
secretaries, but our skirts were too short for typical junior
professionals in some big firm.  I decided that I wouldn't have much
trouble attracting clients when I let the word get out that I was a
partner in my own firm.

	Lunch really was a business discussion.  I talked with Rocky
about investment strategies and what other holdings he had.  Though I
never directly asked him what his net worth was, it was clear that a
couple of cruise ships and a fleet of fishing boats was the tip of a
very major iceberg.  Kelly's contribution was more on the banking side
of things, but she had some creative ideas for money flow that made me
realize I had never truly appreciated her own expertise.  Perhaps the
firm of Dewinter and Dewinter, needed to add yet another partner.

	After lunch Rocky took me back to my office so that I could
catch up on the things that had happened during Ran's vacation and
said he would be back at the end of the day.  I expected that he would
just give Kelly a ride home but when I met him after I left the
office, Kelly was still with him.  My arched eyebrow invited an
explanation, but her smug smile answered with invincible armor plate.
Kelly really was a beautiful woman and Rocky had offered to share.  I
wondered if they had pursued that idea during the afternoon.  I would
once have been insanely jealous at the thought, but my own awakening
as Brandy and the changes that had brought into our lives confused the
issue too much for a single, pure emotion.  I hadn't even sorted out
my own feelings toward Rocky, let alone decided what relationship I
wanted between Kelly and him.

	We went to dinner.  Rocky's massive strength provided a
bulwark against the local stud patrol, which was a bit of a relief and
a bit of a disappointment at the same time.  I began to understand
Kelly's enjoyment of going out with the girls unchaperoned by a
husband.  At one point in the dinner, Kelly made the nose powder
signal and we adjourned to the appropriate room for touchups.  As soon
as we were in the room, she swung to me with an urgent look.

	"What did you do in Anchorage with Rocky?  I forgot to ask you
when we were fixing our faces at home."

	I blushed, which was a large part of an answer in itself and
wondered where to begin.  "He found me at the restaurant I had chosen
for supper, and afterward, we went back to my room.  This time we
weren't interrupted and I . . . um . . . completed what I had started
earlier."

	Kelly grinned in congratulations for my success as Brandy,
then got to what I thought might be her real question.  "What sort of
relationship do you think he and I should have?"

	"What sort do you want?"

	"I really don't know.  I've never been with any man but Ran
and I've always been satisfied, really.  But Rocky is so massive and
masculine.  I find my tits popping up whenever he smiles at me."

	"Then go for it, girl.  I would have if I could have, I know
that now.  That makes whatever you want to do or actually manage to do
no more than fair.  Have a good time.  Actually, I wondered if that
was what you had done this afternoon.  You certainly had an
interesting grin on your face when you both came to get me."

	"Oh, no," she giggled, "that's not what I was smiling about.
Rocky will tell you when we get back.  I just had to find out about
Anchorage, and about your thoughts on Rocky and me.  I know you'll
enjoy the other topic."

	Her mysterious grin resurrected itself, and by the time we got
to our table, Kelly's smug smile threatened to burst from excitement.
She clearly had a major secret to share.  Rocky saw her grin and
answered it with one of his own, though his contained a mischievous
flavor I thought was normally limited to little boys who were about to
do something their parents wouldn't approve.

	"Did you tell her?" he asked Kelly.

	"Nope," she declared.  "It's mostly your idea and I wouldn't
spoil your secret."

	"What are you two up to?" I demanded, but just then the waiter
appeared with our meals.

	When the waiter had finished, I looked my question at Rocky
again, holding my hands in my lap in clear signal that I would not
start anything else until he told me what was going on.  He grinned at
my determination and motioned me to eat.  Since the salad would wait,
I just arched my eyebrow at him and smiled with an echo of the calm
patience he had shown that morning.  He laughed and nodded.

	"Okay, I'll tell you, but go ahead and eat."

	He suddenly became more serious.  "For all my life," he
explained, starting with a seemingly unrelated topic, "I've been
bigger than those around me, bigger than the kids I grew up with and
bigger than the adults I worked with.  I saw those who used their size
to be bullies and I hated it every time I met one.  When I could, I've
tried to teach them the error of their ways.  That's the one thing
besides hard work I'll really use my size for, to pay back a bully.
This bastard who raped you is nothing but a grown up bully.  I want to
teach him a lesson."

	Rocky continued, "This afternoon Kelly and I picked up a few
odds and ends that we can use for his lesson."  "By the way," he
grinned, "she has a wonderfully creative mind, but don't ever get her
really mad at you.  However, we have one problem, Kelly tells me she
doesn't know how to find this Tanyon character since he always called
you and never left a return number.  Do you know how to find him?"

	I thought about the nightclub and his obvious familiarity
there.  I knew he must go there often enough that we could find him
with a reasonable wait.  I didn't like the bastard, either, but there
was a reason I couldn't let it go too far.

	"What did you have in mind?  I won't help you kill him.  He's
mean and petty and a bully all right.  But he didn't have to throw me
the handcuff key and I would have really been in trouble without it.
That one gesture gets him some consideration."

	"Oh, don't worry.  What I have in mind won't kill him, it
won't even hurt him, much.  I just intend to make him feel as helpless
as you felt, and as embarrassed.  Of course, I may scale things up by
the ratio of his strength to yours.  That's how you make a bully
realize just how terrible his behavior has been," he smiled with the
confidence of repeated experience, and I resolved never to bully
anyone in his presence.

	"So, what did you have in mind?" I asked.

	"First, can you find him?"

I nodded and explained about the nightclub.  If we waited for his
Porsche to show up, I was sure we could catch him going in or out of
the club.  When Rocky started explaining his plan I began to chuckle,
then to giggle.  When Kelly explained her embellishments, we all broke
out in laughter than had heads turning.  I thought about the last time
we had made a mirthful disturbance in a restaurant and wondered if we
would again attract the attention of the management.  Looking around
at the other patrons, I saw a geek staring our way, not the same one,
but the same type.  When I reminded Kelly of the other time and
pointed out our new admirer she almost fell off her chair from
laughing.  Rocky looked at us in amusement, caught up in our
happiness, but his deeper thoughts still had control of his smile and
the mischievous look remained in his eyes.



Chapter 21 - Paybacks are Hell



	Our plans over dinner were made on a Monday and I didn't know
if Tanyon went to the club on weeknights or just on weekends.  Since
no one there had seen Kelly or Rocky, they decided to go to the club
and ask around.  If we saw Tanyon's Porsche, they wouldn't even go
inside, but if he wasn't there they could ask for him, claiming some
mysterious business that they could talk about only with him.  The
blonde hostess was only too glad to talk about Tanyon, explaining that
he sometimes came in during the week but always showed up on Friday
and Saturday nights for at least a while.  We decided to wait for
Saturday rather than hang around.  That way we shouldn't make anyone
suspicious and it would be exactly one week since his attack on me.

	That Saturday evening I dressed in dark stretch pants, a
turtleneck sweater and black running shoes.  I bound my mane up into a
ponytail, but wore makeup and my corset.  I had considered going as
Ran to be as unremarkable as possible, since he's fairly average for a
guy but I'm decidedly noticeable as Brandy.  But then I decided I
wanted to be Brandy in any situation that I could.  I also wanted Dart
to know that it was me that was controlling him.  We cruised by the
nightclub and saw his Porsche in the lot.  Rocky and Kelly dropped me
off and I went to the shadows to wait until Tanyon emerged.  When he
did, I stepped quickly up to him and put the muzzle of my .380 in his
back.

	"Hello, Dart," I sang softly in Brandy's musical tones.
"Remember me?"

	He had jerked, then frozen at the feel of the gun, but when he
heard my voice he got tough again.

	"Yeah, I remember you, you pervert."

	"Imagine you calling me a pervert.  I've never put my cock up
another man's ass.  Tell me, Dart, did you enjoy it?"

	The flush flooding his strong face could have been anger or it
could have been embarrassment, I couldn't tell.  Oh well, no matter,
by the time we were done it would be embarrassment.  I had him open
the car door and I slipped in his side, sliding over the gear shift
and brake handles.  He followed me into the car and I directed him to
drive off.  Further directions followed and we arrived at a
self-service storage facility where Rocky had rented a garage under an
assumed name.  I had him pull into the garage and turn off the
Porsche.

	"Here, put this on," I ordered, handing him a black leather
blindfold.

	"Forget it," he growled.  I could tell he was getting ready to
make a move on me, measuring the distance to the gun.  Just then a
blinding light came on his side of the car.  He turned to see it and
squinted in the glare.  His door was opened and he was pulled from the
car.  He struck out blindly at the shadow holding him, but missed and
his hand was caught.  It was pulled behind his back as he was slammed
into the side of the Porsche.  He reached back with his other massive
arm, but this one was caught as well.  A titanic struggle ensued as he
pitted his tremendous strength against the man holding him.
Regardless of his struggles, however, the shadowed figure pulled
Tanyon's arm down to meet his other wrist.  Smaller hands darted into
the light with handcuffs and Tanyon's arms were secured.  I had exited
the car on my side by that time and placed the blindfold over Tanyon's
eyes, checking to ensure that no light could enter.  He was still
straining against the powerful form holding him, but relaxed when he
realized that he would not be able to get free of the handcuffs and
blindfold.

	"Whoever you other two are, you're in big trouble, and this
pervert is already dead.  I'll find you others, too, and you'll regret
ever getting into this."

	Rocky rapped him sharply on the back of the head, sending his
nose painfully into the top of the car.  In a voice so deep with
menace it sounded like a deliberate disguise, he growled, "That's the
last time I want to hear you call Brandy any names.  As far as I'm
concerned, bullies like you are the worst sort of perverts, using your
strength to hurt others.  And let me make it clear right now.  If you
ever hurt Brandy, you will die.  I'll take you out behind my boat and
troll for sharks.  They'll eat you one bite at a time until there's no
trace of you.  I know.  I've seen it happen.  In fact, you better hope
that she lives a long, happy life because if anything happens to her,
even if it's not your fault, I'm coming after you."

	Tanyon grunted back, "You idiot, that 'Brandy' you're talking
about isn't even female.  It's a guy dressed up like a woman."

	That earned him another rap on the head.  "No insults to me,
either, especially coming from you about intelligence.  Besides, I
know who Brandy is."

	"I was a little worried when he was struggling with you," I
said.  "He's awfully strong."

	"Not really," Rocky disagreed.  "He's big, but he's got
hothouse muscles from a gym.  Those who really work for a living know
how to use their strength.  I knew as soon as I grabbed him that he
was a wimp."

	Rocky grinned as he said this and Kelly giggled in the
darkness.  I had to admit that Dart still intimidated me so I just
gave a weak little smile myself.  On the other hand, the comment
provoked a fresh struggle from Tanyon, which Rocky casually seemed to
ignore, regardless of what effort it really took.  We pulled Tanyon
from the garage into Rocky's rental car and drove off.  After a
roundabout route which we figured was sufficient to disorient him, we
pulled back into the same self-storage facility though we stopped at a
different stall.  Tanyon was hustled out of the car, still handcuffed
and blindfolded and taken into the room where the door was quickly
closed behind him.  Rocky pushed him backward and Kelly tripped him so
that he fell onto his bound arms, knocking his head on the floor.  He
grunted and cursed, which got him a laugh from Rocky.  There was a
strange quality in that laugh and for the first time I realized that
Rocky could be at least as hard as Tanyon, probably harder.  The
difference between a real man and a bully, I thought.  While Tanyon
was floundering on his back, his shoes and socks were removed, then
Kelly reached for his belt.  He struggled even harder, kicking out
with his legs, but Rocky gathered them in effortlessly and I kneeled
on Tanyon's chest to hold him down.  In a moment, Kelly had Dart's
pants to his knees.  Rocky released his legs and quickly stripped the
pants down, leaving Tanyon naked below the waist.  His ankles were
fastened to a spreader bar, forcing his legs wide and leaving his
precious jewels dangling exposed and vulnerable.

	I couldn't help it.  I laughed and reached down to scratch his
balls lightly with my long fingernails, provoking a gasp and a pulse
from his cock.  Then I squeezed them just hard enough to provoke a
grunt.  At that he quit struggling.  We stood him up and fastened the
bar to a bolt in the floor.  He swayed as he tried to balance with his
arms awkwardly bound and his feet immobilized.  Wrist restraints
leading to chains hooked to the ceiling were placed on his arms above
the handcuffs.  When Kelly unlocked the cuffs, Rocky and I pulled
Tanyon's arms straight out and up and he was standing spread-eagled
and helpless.  We tied off our lines to the walls of the building and
moved back to where he was stretched.

	I reached down for his dangling package and began to stroke
him, provoking an erection he was helpless to control.  "Dart, dear,"
I murmured, dripping honey from my soft tones, "you seemed so
interested in sex with a man that we thought we'd help you find one.
If you're a good little boy, you may even find you like this."

	I stepped back and nodded to Kelly, who approached with a
buzzing razor and started to remove all the hair from Tanyon's
muscular body.  While she was working on his legs I cut his shirt and
jacket off, leaving him completely naked.  When she got to the cuffs
holding Dart's wrists and ankles, Rocky took a hold on the affected
member and immobilized it even more effectively than the shackles had
done.  Kelly cheerfully removed the curly hairs surrounding his balls
and surrounding his anus, then moved up his body.  We had decided the
additional fear introduced by being blindfolded would be a useful
start, but our plans required full access to Tanyon's face so when she
got to his neck Kelly stopped.  She and Rocky pulled on full-face silk
masks with eyeholes cut out.  Looking like executioners, which was
part of the intended effect, they removed Tanyon's blindfold.  He
blinked a few times then glanced wildly around the room.  Rocky
grabbed Dart's hair to hold his head still and Kelly continued, not
neglecting eyebrows or sideburns.  She used scissors to shorten the
curly hair on Tanyon's head except for the knot that Rocky was holding
then shaved it as well.  Finally, Rocky grabbed Tanyon around the neck
and held him still while Kelly removed the topknot that had been used
as a handle.  At the end of this phase, Tanyon was completely shaved,
no hair showing except his eyelashes.  We had plans for those
eyelashes.

	From this point on we wanted him to see what was going on, in
fact, we explained it to him.  Since Dart had left me bound and alone
on a deserted road, exposed as a cross-dresser, Rocky's revenge plan
involved doing the same to Tanyon.  However, in accordance with
Rocky's concept of increasing the punishment to match the ratio of
strengths, Dart was going to find it a bit more difficult to return to
a single-gender appearance.  We couldn't turn him into a convincing
female, let alone a gorgeous woman and we weren't going to try.
Instead, he would be blatantly cross-dressed until he could undo
several effects we intended.  Where Kelly had used her artist skills
to make me beautiful, she would use these same skills to make him
gaudy and cheap.  Dart would not quite be a clown, rather a man who
had tried to dress as a woman but was incompetent, achieving only a
sad and undesirable compromise.

	The first step in this transformation was to put him into his
own corset.  We wrapped a stiffly boned waist cincher around him and
Rocky pulled it tight as he described the improvements he had made in
the garment.

	"We've replaced the ordinary strings of this corset with thin
wire cable. Unfortunately, I seem to have gotten the strings tied into
some sort of nasty knot.  I'm not sure it could ever be untied.  You
won't be able to cut them with an ordinary knife but you can probably
cut them with wire cutters if you can find any.  I suppose you could
try to cut the corset as well, but the stays are metal and you'll need
to be careful not to hurt yourself."

	We added white stockings, ensuring that there were appropriate
runs in both legs.  Then we pulled up black fishnets over the white
stockings, tearing out a few loops so that gaps in the pattern showed.
Each time that we had to release one of Dart's ankles Rocky would hold
him, but it was interesting to see his struggles diminish.  He was
staring at our actions with shocked horror, unwilling to believe that
it was happening to him.  Next we slipped towering platform heels on
his feet, even taller than the ones that Kelly and I normally wore.
Of course they were not slip-ons, but fastened with wide ankle straps.
The shoes couldn't be removed without first undoing the straps.  Since
his hands were going to be unavailable to him, we figured that it
would be a while before he got those loose.

	Next we put on a bountiful bra sized to his massive chest.
Where Kelly and Rocky had found that thing I never knew.  They had
also made falsies for him using foam rubber carved more or less into
shape.  No artfully-designed silicone contours for him.  Kelly giggled
as she brought out a bouffant petticoat, stiffened with net to flare
from his hips.  She slipped it on, casually drawing it over his
softened cock.  This caused a reaction in his member and she tugged on
it a few times as though milking a cow.  It rose to the occasion and I
laughed and said, "Goodness, you'd think he liked getting dressed as a
girl."

	The next item in his new outfit was a dress, bright pink of
course, with ruffles everywhere you could imagine ruffles to be.  We
slipped it on one arm then slid it down to his head where we released
the other arm and fed it through.  By this time he had stopped
struggling, standing passively and allowing us to do what we wanted.
This didn't cause us to relax our vigilance at all.  At no time was
more than one arm or leg loose and even that one was in Rocky's firm
grasp.  The dress zipped up the back to a high neck.  Inside the
ruffle at the neck was a cardboard collar to hold his head up, and the
zipper itself had a lock at the top so that it couldn't be pulled down
without a key.

	Now it was Kelly's turn to explain as she brought out jars
filled with vibrant colors.  "This isn't regular makeup," she giggled
as she stirred one of the mixtures.  "It's actually a sort of dye.
It's called semi-permanent since it will come out, eventually, but it
will be a while.  About six weeks."  This was too much for her and she
had to pause to laugh, shaking with mirth.

	Dart's eyes had widened in horror at her explanation, but then
they narrowed in hate.  Rocky caught the look and growled in Tanyon's
ear.  "Remember, if anything happens to them, you die as sharkbait.  I
guarantee it."

	The repeat of this fearsome threat caused the color to drain
from Tanyon's face.  He tried to avoid the touch of the brush that
Kelly used, but Rocky caught his head.  However, the force he had to
use to keep Tanyon from moving caused so many wrinkles and ridges to
form in Tanyon's face that Kelly stood back in dismay until I walked
over and solved the problem.  Reaching under Tanyon's dress and
petticoat I took his balls in my hand and again stroked them softly
for a moment, then grabbed them and squeezed.  He groaned and sagged
into his bonds, relaxing the tension in his neck.

	"Naughty, naughty," I scolded.  "Remember what I said about
being a good boy."

	I motioned Rocky to release him but kept my own hold on his
dangling package.  He stood quite still as Kelly worked on his face.
She added eyeshadow in a too-bright blue and blush in a too-gaudy red.
Instead of blending it in carefully, she left the boundaries a bit too
distinct.  Dart's lips were painted a bright pink that almost matched
the dress but did not go with his cheeks at all.  She painted on
eyebrows arched too high and finally added false eyelashes so long
they would be obvious fakes even on the most glamorous woman, which
Dart definitely was not.  His face held that garish, overdone look of
someone with enthusiasm but no skill.

	One item remained in his basic feminine outfit.  Kelly brought
out a long, curly wig.  Instead of the liquid grace of my own hair,
this one was stiff and obviously artificial, frizzing even before it
was worn.  Did I mention it was a bright yellow blonde that was as
artificial-looking as the hair on his hostess friend?  Kelly carefully
applied an even coat of super glue to the interior before placing it
on Dart's smooth-shaven head.  The curls fell down over his shoulders.
A stiff section landed in front of his eyes and he tossed his head to
clear his vision.

	"Good!" I cheered.  "Keep working on those dainty feminine
motions.  You can certainly use the practice."

	Tanyon stood before us, still stretched in a spread eagle but
now fully dressed as an unconvincing woman.  He looked about as bad as
anyone who ever went to a costume party, only he wouldn't be changing
back at the end of the evening, at least not completely.  I approached
him and let a more ominous note creep into my tones.

	"Let's see now.  When you left me on that hillside I seem to
remember that I was wearing gloves and had my hands cuffed together
behind my back.  What can we do about that?"

	I nodded to Rocky and he brought one of Tanyon's arms down and
held it by the wrist.  Dart wasn't sure what I had in mind but the
note in my voice frightened him, as it was supposed to.  He clenched
his massive hand into a fist and seemed determined to keep us from
putting on gloves.  However, this was what we had expected.  Kelly
brought out a fingerless mitt that she placed around his fist and
clamped at this wrist with a strong leather strap that had an embedded
steel ring.  Rocky forced Tanyon's arm behind his back and the ring
was attached to a chain from the ceiling, holding it in place while
Tanyon's other arm was released into Rocky's grip.  A match to the
mitt Tanyon wore was sewn to the perimeter of the first mitt, and in a
minute it was on Dart's other fist and the wrist band was in place.
His wrists were bound together with a padlock, securing his fingers
still tightly held as fists within the linked bags over them.

	"Yes," I mused, "that should about cover the gloves and
handcuffs.  Oh, by the way, the only reason we're going so easy on you
is that you left me the key to the cuffs that bound my arms.  It would
only be fair if I do the same for you."  With that I hung the key to
the padlock on a chain which I placed around his neck.  One down and
two more to go.

	"I remember that there were some more activities you demanded
on that evening," I continued.  "Since I want you to get the full
effect, we've arranged for something similar for you."

	Tanyon's eyes went wide and he began to curse fluently and
loudly.  I let him run for a minute and then grabbed him by the balls
and squeezed until he grunted to a stop in pain.

	"Naughty, naughty," I chuckled with a conscious parody of my
earlier admonition, though now my voice was harsher as though I took
cruel pleasure in what was coming.  Perhaps I did.

	"Oh, don't worry," I pretended to comfort him.  "You won't
really have to give anyone a blowjob.  Who'd want you to touch them
anyway?  Even if your lips are awfully pretty.  Instead, we'll give
you a little present to keep as a momento of the evening."

	Kelly brought out a leather-strapped gag for Tanyon's mouth.
Instead of a ball or other simple shape to hold the wearer's mouth
open and prevent talking, this one had a cock-shaped knob about three
inches long.  Tanyon tried to resist, but Rocky was too strong for him
and the cock shape was soon in his mouth.  It was just long enough to
trigger a gag reflex when we first put it in, but in a moment that
subsided and he stood there glaring as the leather band was fastened
behind his neck.  It also closed with a padlock and soon another key
on its own chain was dangling from Tanyon's neck.  Two down and one
more to go.

	"That's about it," I teased, as though I had forgotten the
final attack he had made on me.  "Except for the little matter of you
raping me in the ass.  Now it turns out that your cock is kind of
small, as such things go.  Even mine is bigger than your little
noodle, and this guy here would really teach you the meaning of pain.
But then, you did leave me the key, so we're not going to rape your
ass like you did mine."

	Tanyon's eyes had shown relief as I suggested we were done,
then gone wild when I started talking about his rape of my ass, but he
sagged again with relief when I told him he would not be raped
himself.  Then Kelly brought out the last of the devices we had
acquired for this evening.  He really began to thrash now, but his
ankles were still bound by the spreader bar and his arms were locked
behind him.  Rocky easily held him upright since about all he could do
would be fall down.  The first item I took from Kelly's hands was a
cock and ball harness.  I stroked Dart a few times under the skirt of
his dress until he was stiff, though not fully erect.  I slipped the
harness on over his cock and around his balls and fastened the buckle.
The harness had a line leading from the tip and I tugged on this
gently, but with enough force to get his attention.  I reached behind
him and tied the line from the harness to the bottom of his corset.
The line was partially elastic so I could put a bit of tension to it
without actually damaging his package and I pulled it fairly tight,
enough to get a grunt from around the gag.  The last item in Kelly's
hand, the one that had really made him frantic, was a leather strap
with an embedded dildo.  It wasn't very big as dildos went, only about
four inches long and a bit less than an inch wide, but I wanted him to
think that was the size I considered his own cock to be.  Rocky pulled
Dart's shoulders forward to make him bend over.  Tanyon kept
struggling, but by now his frantic panic had robbed him of real
strength.

	"You'll be glad to know, I'm sure, that I'm using a great deal
more lubrication on this than you used when you raped me.  Of course,
this is one of those motion lotions so in a while it may get a little
hot.  It probably won't burn like the pain I felt, though."

	With that I pushed the dildo up his ass and wrapped the strap
between his legs on top of his bound cock and then up around his
waist.  It also had a lock and with a firm click I closed it.  The
last padlock key went on a third chain around his neck and I pulled
his skirt down.  Rocky released his shoulders at that point but Tanyon
stayed bent over.  Straightening slowly he winced around his gag and
started grunting.  At this point we could see that he was truly a
bully and therefore a coward.  His eyes pleaded for sympathy and his
grunts had a whining tone.  I'm sure he would have promised whatever
we asked of him at that point, but our plans were firm.  Kelly looked
a little sick, as though the reality of our plans was more difficult
to accept than the theory.  I wasn't as happy with things myself as I
had expected to be.  It certainly wasn't filling me with the hilarity
I had felt when they had explained their idea to me.  Only Rocky held
a look of grim satisfaction.

	He caught Tanyon's chin in his hand and forced Dart to look
him in the eyes.  "Listen to me, you scumbag.  You brought this on
yourself.  If you had treated Brandy as a lady you would never have
attacked her and would never have opened yourself up to this
retribution.  All my life I have been trying to get back at bullies,
always by giving them what they gave out, only more so.  This is
actually less than I would have done on my own, but Brandy said to
take it easy on you because of the key.  You ought to be really,
really thankful for that gesture, and for her generosity.  I'm also
going to tell you one more time.  Any attacks on them and you're
sharkshit.  Do you understand me?"

	Tanyon grunted something which didn't seem enthusiastic enough
to Rocky.

	"Do you understand me?" Rocky demanded again.

	This time Tanyon nodded his head vigorously.

	We released his ankles from the spreader bar and put a bag
over his head, not wanting the tight blindfold to mess up his false
eyelashes.  He stumbled awkwardly in his platform shoes but Rocky kept
him supported until we poured him into the car.  He started pleading
grunts again as his butt hit the seat but in another second we were
all in the car and heading back up to the hillside where he had taken
me.  We hauled him out of the car and stood him teetering on his heels
beside the bench where he had raped me and I pulled the bag from his
head.

	"For the consideration you showed when you left me the key,
I'll wish you good luck," I offered.  "You haven't really had to suck
anyone's cock.  You haven't really been raped in the ass, and you
don't have to search blindly behind you for a key you can hardly feel
through your gloves.  You're even standing up.  You might find if you
fall it's not too easy to get up once you're down on the ground or
stretched over a bench.  You know where your car is and your clothes
and money will be on the seat.  I think we've been more than fair.  If
you don't think so, tough."

	I walked up the hill without looking back.  Kelly told me he
had tried to turn and follow but had almost fallen off his shoes and
then stood still as he struggled to maintain his balance.  We got in
Rocky's anonymous rental car and drove off.  Rocky let Kelly and I out
just a little ways down the hill and we ran back to hide where we
could see what Tanyon would do.  I don't think I'd have tried to stop
him if he'd moved to throw himself off the cliff, but he just stood
there for a few minutes then carefully started up the hill.  We
watched from the dark as he walked toward the streetlight and then the
convenience store, moving stiffly, carefully, much more slowly than I
had done, even in my throbbing pain.  The matronly lady first tried to
shut him out of the store, shocked by his strange appearance, but his
pleading eyes and obviously bound condition caused her to relent and
she let him in.

	It was a dark comedy that didn't make us laugh to see him try
and grunt a request to use the keys to unlock him.  Of course, the top
key chain was to the crotch strap with the dildo and he didn't want
her to use that one, so he had to get her to go for the next chain
down.  He turned around and waited, but she tried that key on his
cuffs, which was the wrong lock.  He kept shaking his wig at her,
trying to get her to use it on the gag but she didn't really see that
lock through the stiff curls.  Finally he turned around again and
grunted about the third key.  When she used it to take the mitts off
his hands, he used the second key to unlock his gag.  Her eyes widened
when she saw what kind of gag he had been chewing on.  Tanyon grabbed
the key to the crotch strap from her hands and disappeared into the
men's room.  It was several minutes before he came out, walking
easier.  His face was scrubbed but the colors had not diminished in
any noticeable amount.  I wondered how angry he would be but he seemed
embarrassed instead, ducking his head to keep from looking at the
matron.  I noticed he had not taken off any of his women's clothes,
not even the shoes.  I didn't think he would be able to bend that far
in the stiff corset and we hadn't given him a key to the tiny lock on
the dress collar, so the only way to get out of the dress was to tear
it apart.  Apparently he decided not to do that.

He begged a quarter from the lady and went to the phone booth.  I
could see him pondering who to call for quite a while and I hugged
Kelly with a whisper of gratitude that I had someone I could call no
matter what.  In another half hour a car pulled up with the
bottle-blonde woman, I think her name was Candy, who had greeted us
the night Dart took me to the nightclub.  She started laughing as soon
as she saw him and he growled at her.  She shut up immediately, still
afraid of him, but you could see her struggle to keep a straight face.
They drove off and we walked to our rendezvous with Rocky.



Chapter 22 - Three's Company



	After what we had been through together, kidnapping, assault,
rape, it seemed silly for Rocky to go to some lonely hotel for the
night.  We stopped by the one he had been staying at and he picked up
his things, then we went to our house.  Once there, we showed him the
guest room and suggested he slip into something more comfortable, then
fix himself a drink. Kelly pointed out where everything was, asking
for a martini for herself and reminding him that I drank white wine.
In the bedroom, I got out my red nightgown but left my corset and
stockings on.  Perhaps I had known where we were headed when I dressed
that day, because my corset was in a deep wine red that matched the
nightgown perfectly.  Kelly nodded happily and helped me with the
laces on the nightgown.  I slipped on the matching peignoir and shook
out my ponytail so that my hair resumed its normal cascade to my
waist.  She dressed in her own pale pink nightgown, though she removed
her corset and wore nothing under the sheer material.  Without the
robes for their second layer of sheer material, the nightgowns might
as well have been transparent, especially her pale pink one that
looked almost like a skin tone. Within her peignoir she was actually
covered, but the thin material draped so closely over her form that
her lack of underclothes was obvious.  We put on the feathery
high-heeled slippers and went back to see how Rocky was making out.

	He was dressed in shorts and a tee-shirt and had just finished
mixing up a pitcher of martinis.  My white wine was poured and he was
looking around for whatever he wanted to drink himself.

	"Looking for something, sailor?" I asked with a giggle.

	Rocky's breath caught as he saw us.  A wondering grin lit his
face and he whistled long and low in appreciation.  I had noticed
earlier that Kelly's nightgown made her look like an angel about to
take wing while my own darker appearance hinted at more sinful
delights.  What I hadn't considered until I saw the wondering look in
his eyes was that the secondary choice of nudity under the nightgown
for Kelly portrayed an angelic innocence, while the shadows of erotic
lingerie for me confirmed a commitment to more carnal pleasures.  The
contrasting applications of similar styles added up to a lot more than
the discrete images would have totaled, leaving Rocky pleased and
delighted.

	"You girls never cease to amaze me," he grinned.  "Each time I
see you in some new outfit I think there couldn't be another as
pretty.  Then you come out in something even more beautiful and I have
to learn how to breathe all over again."

	I let one hand fall behind Kelly's fanny and pinched her
sharply on a thinly-clad cheek.  She jumped forward with a small
squeak and then glared at me.  I motioned toward Rocky with my eyes
and her eyes widened as she realized that I was offering him to her
for whatever pleasure they might enjoy.

	"Are you sure?" she whispered.

	I nodded happily, pleased to have two people I considered my
best friends find pleasure in each other.  Rocky had caught only a
portion of the telepathic communication between Kelly and me.  He
would probably never feel quite so deep a bond as we did but he picked
up enough of it to recognize the offer that had been made.  Still, a
flush lit his cheeks and he looked directly at me, wanting
confirmation from my own eyes that I approved.  I nodded to him as
well.  He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, once again
displaying an inward glance of deep thinking as he considered what to
do.  Kelly took at least a part of the decision away from him by
flowing into his arms and lifting her lips for a kiss.  She's several
inches shorter than I am and even in her heels she would either need
his cooperation or she would have to jump to reach his lips.  But his
cooperation was not long in coming and soon they were locked in a
breathless clinch.  I strolled silently over to the bar and picked up
my wine, waiting for them to decide how to proceed.

	When I looked, Kelly was whispering in Rocky's ear and a new
flush was spreading across his face.  It seemed she had taken the next
step as well and was offering an interesting suggestion.  I found out
how interesting in a moment when Rocky nodded and Kelly stepped back.

	"Brandy," Kelly announced, "I told Rocky about how you give
the world's greatest massages and asked if he might like to learn your
technique.  He's indicated an interest.  Would you care to teach him?"

	"Do you want to learn the full technique?" I asked Rocky,
arching an elegant eyebrow.

	He gulped and nodded, not entirely sure what he was letting
himself in for.  We strolled to the bedroom and I helped Kelly remove
her nightgown.  She stood there as a vision of innocence.  Neat trick,
since she was hardly innocent, though perhaps the simple honesty with
which she approached pleasure preserved her virtue after all.  She
helped me with my nightgown laces as well, though I left my corset and
stockings on.

	Kelly lay face down on our bed and I moved to one side to
begin the backrub portion of her massage.  Rocky stood there in
confusion, obviously excited.  Not only was his breathing rapid and
his face flushed, but the tent pole in his shorts looked almost
painful.

	"Now, Rocky, you're not going to learn much from over there,"
I laughed.

	He moved closer and was about to climb on the bed when Kelly
murmured from the bed, "For training in the full technique, you'll
have to lose the shirt and shorts."

	Rocky blushed, but grinned and in a minute was standing nude
by the bedside.  All that naked flesh was getting me excited but I
knew my own sensuous attire added to Rocky's interest much more than
my naked body would have.  He moved onto his side of the bed and I
handed him the bottle of oil.  He warmed some in his hands and began
to rub Kelly's right arm and leg while I did the same for her left
side.  We worked together, heads nearly touching as we concentrated on
our task.  At one point I looked up to see his eyes on me and I
grinned at him through my long lashes.  He smiled back and leaned
forward for a quick kiss before we went on with Kelly's massage.  When
her backrub was finished I tapped her on the shoulder and she rolled
over, provoking a gasp of pleasure from Rocky as she stretched her
trim, shapely form.  Her arms and legs sought the corners of the bed
and I brought out the restraints.  Rocky's eyes glinted with interest
but he said nothing, which suggested that Kelly had already explained
about this in her whispered offer.  Working both sides together we had
Kelly stretched firmly to the cornerposts in no time and then we began
the rest of her massage.  She hummed softly with the relaxing feeling
as the external tension relieved the internal stresses in her back and
muscles.  After Rocky and I had worked out the kinks in the long
muscles of her arms and legs, I began to lightly stroke her pleasure
jewel with my right hand while I worked on her nipple with my left.
Rocky joined in enthusiastically and soon Kelly's humming had turned
to small moans of pleasure.

	When I judged the time was right, I sat back and giggled, "At
this point, I nibble at her nubbin, would you like to do the honors?"
I waved my hand over her steaming love tunnel.

	He nodded and moved between her legs to begin enthusiastically
licking and sucking at her glistening jewel.  I bent down and licked
at her erect nipples, causing a special smile to appear on her face.
Alone, I could only kiss one place at a time.  Now she was getting
twice the pleasure.  Well, maybe not quite twice since Rocky's target
was a bit more effective than mine, but Kelly seemed pleased none the
less.  In a short while she was beginning to toss her head and moan
louder.  The ripples started in her arms and legs and she began to
vibrate as her energy fed back internally.  Soon she was tuned up to a
high pitch and thrashing the limited amount her bonds allowed.  When
she came down from her peak, Rocky sat back in amazement at the
intensity of her release.

	"That was spectacular," he panted, his own excitement visible
in his flushed cheeks and gleaming eyes, and in another area as well.

	"You haven't seen anything, yet," I promised.  I was about to
suggest he follow up the work of his tongue with an even more
effective tool, when Kelly made a soft request.

	"Brandy, would you do me a favor?" she breathed.

	"Yes," I replied simply.

	"You don't even know what I'm going to ask for," she grinned.

	"It doesn't matter," I declared.  "If you want it, it will be
a good idea."

	She smiled happily, then asked, "Would you suck Rocky's cock?
I want to watch."

	This did bring a blush to my face, since the only time I had
done that, Rocky still thought I was a girl.  I looked at him to see a
surprised expression, but also interest.  He noticed my glance and
nodded so I grinned at him and moved to arrange a pillow under Kelly's
head.  I had him sit on the vanity chair and kneeled between his legs,
then looked up at Kelly's wide eyes.  She stared as I began to lick
Rocky's cock, bathing it with my tongue as she had so often bathed
mine.  When I pulled the head into my mouth they both gasped, as
though Kelly and Rocky were sharing the physical pleasure from my
glossy lips.  I slowly drew more of his cock into my throat, patiently
overcoming the reflex, and was soon bobbing up and down with pleasure
of my own at the taste and texture of his thick sword.  Each stroke I
attempted to take more down my throat and increase my suction and I
was really getting into it when I heard Kelly's call.

	"Brandy, . . Brandy, please stop now.  I have a better use for
that then feeding you.

	I looked up to see the beads of sweat in Rocky's forehead that
were the precursors to release.  I pulled off of his cock and he
groaned in dismay.

	"Don't worry," I chuckled, "we'll make it up to you."

	I pulled gently at his throbbing erection and he moved after
my hand until he realized that our intent was for him to put that
sword in a different sort of sheath than I could provide.  Then he
moved into position on his own and placed the head of his thick tool
at Kelly's glistening lower lips.  Rocky gently pushed into her,
provoking a gasp that was reflected in his own panting breath.

	As he began to stroke, Kelly whispered, "Brandy, let me suck
you now, too."

	I looked at Rocky, who had never seen the ultimate proof that
I was truly not a woman, then at the confident smile on Kelly's face.
She was sure that Rocky would be able to accept the last secret I held
from him and I knew I had to trust him as well.  I pulled the thong
pouch down from my own hard erection and straddled Kelly's shoulders.
As I slowly fed her my cock she began to lick and suck at it as much
as her limited motion allowed.  Cradling her head, I helped hold it
high enough for her to work her magic.  Since I was facing toward the
top of the bed I wasn't sure that Rocky had actually seen my own sword
though what I was doing was unmistakable.

	I was concentrating on the wonderful things that Kelly was
doing to me, bending over her to cradle her head, my hair cascading
down the front of my shoulders when I felt a soft kiss on the back of
my neck.  The kiss led to playful flicks with his tongue and then a
hard hand caressed my tight ass with a gentle touch.  I gasped at his
attention.  Deciding to face the ultimate exposure, I pulled out of
Kelly's mouth despite her groan of protest and turned around to face
Rocky.  His eyes widened in surprise and respect when he saw the
length of my own equipment but he didn't stop his smooth strokes into
Kelly.  I positioned myself over her and fed my shining sword back
into her mouth, this time allowing her head to lay back so that she
could open her throat and take even more of the length of it.  I began
to rock my hips forward and back in time with the strokes that Rocky
was making and we soon reached a compatible rhythm.

	Rocky smiled at me in acceptance of my unique nature.  I
leaned forward to kiss him softly in thanks, but the kiss soon led to
a higher level of passion.  Our tongues began to duel as we crushed
our lips together.  The energy of our hips as we stroked into Kelly
increased with the heat of our kiss.  She began to moan around my cock
and her body began the ripples that provided warning of her own
internal explosion.  Rocky broke our kiss and I opened my eyes to see
his own eyes wide in amazement at the intense pressure Kelly generated
as her own energy level climbed to dizzying heights.  We kissed again
and then I felt the bed begin to vibrate with Kelly's constrained
thrashing.

	Unfortunately for me, her intense contractions were also
reflected in her jaw muscles, which clamped on my cock tightly enough
to cause her teeth to hold me motionless.  I froze in midstroke,
waiting for her to relax though I continued kissing Rocky with frantic
energy.  He arched his back and drew his head away from me as his own
release exploded from him.  I held myself there, bound by Kelly's
teeth as surely as she was bound by the bungees and waited for them to
return to the same world I was in.  Kelly began to try and draw air
into her starved lungs with a tremendous suction pressure.
Unfortunately for her but pleasant for me was the fact that my cock
filled her mouth.  The suction seemed like it would draw my balls down
my shaft right into her throat and I closed my eyes as my own pressure
built toward a peak.  I was vaguely aware of a stirring in Rocky's
position, then gasped as I felt his hard hand stroking the inches of
my cock that were exposed from Kelly's mouth.  Though she had not yet
released me, the pressure of her suction plus the motion of his
strokes put me over the top and I moaned as I began to fill her mouth
with my own spurting cream.  The pace of Rocky's hip strokes slowed as
Kelly began the long slide down the backside of her mountain, though
he maintained the pace of his hand on my cock.  Kelly's teeth finally
released my cock and she began to swallow my fluid, her closed eyes
smiling as she enjoyed the tangy taste.  Rocky continued to milk my
member until my own spasms moderated and I looked up to see his smile
of genuine pleasure.  I kissed him softly and then withdrew from
Kelly's mouth so that she could catch her breath.  Though Rocky had
accepted me for what I was (whatever I was) I still quickly packed my
softened cock away into my thong pouch and once again appeared as an
erotic lingerie model.  Rocky withdrew himself and reached for Kelly's
restraints when I stopped him.

	"No, first I need to repeat a portion of her massage.  Why
don't you go get us some drinks while I do that?"

	He smiled and grabbed his shorts as he walked back into the
other room.  I took some oil and began to work on Kelly's arms when
she smiled up at me.

	"Did you have a good time?" I asked with a snicker.

	"Yep," she affirmed with a satisfied grin.

	"Don't tell Rocky," Kelly whispered, "but you're better than
he is.  I enjoy sharing him with you, but I still enjoy what you do to
me best of all."

	I grinned in pleasure at her compliment.  "What about Billie
Jo?" I asked.

	"She's nice for a change, sometimes," Kelly admitted.  "But
she told me she either likes petite women like me, or massively
muscular men like her male strippers.  She wants to go out with us
sometimes, but I don't think she's particularly anxious to share a bed
with you again.  Do you mind?"

	"Do you mind that I kissed and sucked Rocky when you weren't
around?"

	"Not at all.  He's a wonderful person.  I wouldn't mind doing
this again, but only as a change of pace.  It wouldn't be my choice
for a steady diet."

	"Good," I whispered as Rocky reentered the room, "not mine
either.  But I don't mind if you enjoy Billie Jo sometimes."

	I cradled Kelly's head as Rocky held the drink to her lips,
then I completed her rubdown.  She began to drift off to sleep and I
took Rocky by the hand and pointed him out of the room.  Grabbing a
short robe, I followed after finding my high-heeled slippers and
swayed into the living room where Rocky was sprawled in an easy chair,
chest still heaving slightly from his exertions.

	He grinned at me and said, "You girls are incredible.  I have
never met such intensely sensuous women, and so creative, too!"

	Giggling, I sat in another chair and raised my glass to him in
acknowledgment of his praise.  Then I put a more serious expression on
my face and asked, "So where do we go from here?"

	"I don't know," he admitted.  "You two clearly have a
wonderful, though unique, relationship and I can share the fringes of
it but could never be part of the core."

	I nodded, confirming the truth of his understanding and
inviting further comment.

	"And while money is no problem, you both have your own
careers.  I wouldn't expect you to give those up and become useless
ornamentation, no matter how beautiful, so it wouldn't work for you to
come live with me."

	I smiled again, encouraging him to continue with his
insightful analysis.

	"So I guess we just need to remain friends, very good friends.
We'll get together when we can, but we'll have to get on with our own
lives as well."

	"Oh, Rocky, you're a dear.  I couldn't have said it better
myself.  You'll always be welcome here, and that goes for Kelly as
well as me, but I don't see this as a full-time relationship."

	I walked over to him and sat on his lap.  We cuddled and
kissed in a companionable way, more comfortable together now that we
had defined ourselves than ever before.  I felt myself nodding in his
arms and shook myself awake.

	"See you in the morning," I yawned.

	His grin dissolved into a yawn of his own as he nodded.  When
I got back to our room I released the soundly-sleeping Kelly so she
could get up if she needed to in the night.  After cleaning my face I
undressed and slipped into bed next to her and drifted off to sleep.



Chapter 23 - Pure Brandy, True Life



	The next morning I dressed in a midnight blue lace blouse and
a snug leather mini while Kelly chose a cheerful ice-blue sundress.
We climbed up on our impossibly high heels and swayed arm-in-arm out
to meet Rocky who smiled in appreciation of our appearance.  Kelly
readily confirmed the relationship Rocky and I had defined the night
before and we made plans for the day.  Rocky was going to have to go
back to the Pacific Northwest so we took him to brunch on the way to
the airport.  We laughed together at the envy in other men's eyes for
Rocky and at the envy in other women's eyes for our looks and our
massively masculine date.  Finally we were at the airport, working to
maintain the cheerful mood and avoid a tearful good-bye.  Kelly and I
placed matching lipstick marks on his cheeks before he went down the
jetway, the difference in our lipstick shades demonstrating that two
women had been involved, and I wondered who would be the first to let
him know about them.

	I sold Ran's pickup truck and bought a wine-red 300ZX
convertible.  That year I had to be Ran a couple of dozen times.  The
next year it was four and the one after that I was only Ran on my
birthday when I went to renew my driver's license.  Billie Jo's eyes
glinted with amusement as she helped me personally, but the amusement
now was not the coolness that promoted distance but a warm sharing of
our secret.  My birthday present from Kelly was a complete laser hair
removal procedure for my face and body hair which eliminated the need
for me to shave.  It was pretty expensive, but I never had to worry
about five-o'clock shadow again.

	From somewhere Rocky obtained a Social Security card and
certified birth certificate made out to Brandy R. Dewinter (rich
people can accomplish amazing things) and I used these to become a
formal partner at Ran's investment firm.  I pay taxes, for goodness
sake.  The staff quit worrying about it after a few visits from Ran to
convince them he really wanted to work at home.  My business keeps
expanding and I make a lot of money for my clients, though they think
my recluse brother does all the analysis.  The word quickly got around
the up-scale men's clubs that Brandy Dewinter was the best investment
counselor around.  I don't know if it's true but I don't think they
care as long as I give them lots of personal attention and they keep
making money.  Rocky gradually moved more and more of his investments
to my firm, which gives us lots of good excuses to get together.

	Kelly and I take a cruise on one of Rocky's ships two or three
times a year and he joins us when he can.  We always have use of the
owner's cabin and wonderful care from the staff who really like
Rocky's ladies.  I don't suppose it hurts his reputation to have two
beautiful women in his bed whenever we visit and while we sometimes
flirt with other men on the ship, our commitment to Rocky keeps
anything from going too far.  I also meet him alone somewhere for a
long weekend every month or so which gives Kelly an opportunity to use
my absence for her own variety interests with Billie Jo.

	We three ladies have become a hit at the restaurants and clubs
in the area.  One year when Billie Jo's birthday rolled around we had
her handcuffed and up on stage at the stripper club, but she didn't
even try to play hard to get.  Her burning hunger for the stripper
playing the cop was so powerful that every woman in the place must
have been flowing with juices.  I know I didn't dare stand up for a
while.  Kelly threatened us with all manner of dire consequences if we
ever do that to her but it's just a matter of time and she knows it.
Billie Jo and I are sure she really wants it but we're working on a
surprise approach.  We may make Kelly a fake license and slip it in
her purse so we can get her a birthday show when she doesn't expect
it.

	After a few months when we heard nothing from Dart Tanyon, I
figured he had left our life forever, until one year when I got a
photo Christmas card from a family I didn't recognize.  A beaming,
portly man was surrounded by a nice-looking woman with light-brown
hair, a boy with a mischievous grin and a beautiful little girl with
long dark hair.  Inside was a note.

	"Dear Brandy, I wanted you to know that I turned my life
around after that night.  I had never understood how ugly a thing a
bully is until then.  Candy and I went away until the dye wore off and
somewhere during that time we realized that we ought to stay together
and we got married.  I've never been happier.  If you ever see that
big guy who helped you, tell him he was right.  Thanks to you both."

	It was signed, "Mr. and Mrs. Roger Tanyon, Dart and Brandy."

	There was a post script as well.  "By the way, we kept the
clothes.  Candy thinks they're fun and I have to admit I do, too.  Our
life is never dull.  Thanks for opening my eyes to that particular
experience as well.  Our best wishes will always be with you, Brandy,
the most beautiful lady we ever met."

	I wonder if I should write to him with a terrific weight-loss
plan I know about.

	



THE END