Bosom Bondage Buddies

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