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While I was looking at myself in the mirror, I thought I might want to trim the beard a little as I was scary looking. Oh well, I thought as I dressed in jeans and one of my new T-shirts.By six I had boiled some water for instant oatmeal and made some coffee that I drank out on the patio.Martin came over so I offered him coffee but he said he had too much already. I asked for directions to a Sears and where a barbershop might be. He told me how to get to a Sears store but asked what I wanted a barber for. When I said to trim my beard back a little, he said that Glenda would enjoy doing it for me and left to get her.Glenda came over with a big towel, a brush, comb and scissors. "How short do you want it Steve?" Glenda, just take a lot of the ragged bottom off and get rid of the puffy sides. Clean me up but don't cut it too short yet. Let me cut it off a little at a time." Steve, do want me to trim up your hair?" Naw, I'll just leave it long for a while. I'm kind a curious how long it. I'm not the biggest guy in the world - kind of small andthin, really... my mom says I'm 'small boned' - so I was theright size and build for a girl. And, boy, did I look like agirl. The wig gave me curly, almost platinum blonde hair, whichtumbled down over my ears and onto my shoulders. The hair framedwhat, I have to admit, was a beautiful face. I don't know whatshe did with the makeup, but it sure worked. My male face hadalmost disappeared behind blushing cheeks... high, thineyebrows... delicately made-up eyes... hot pink lips... And it wasn't just the hair and face. The yellow dress fitsnug across my chest, not showing any cleavage - no surprisethere - but definitely highlighting what appeared to be my small,firm breasts. It narrowed over my stomach - which was quite thindue to the corset - and flared out over my legs, coming to afrilly end just above my knees. The visible part of my legs wascovered by the stockings, which ran down into the yellow shoes. Janice.
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The level of sexual excitement I could achieve before cumming kept hitting higher and higher plateaus, too. When Chastity tickled the underside of my glans with one of her absurdly long fingernails, simultaneously pinching a nipple with her other hand while bruising my lips with her mouth and using a knee to put pressure against my ass, I thought I would lose my guilty mind. Though shamed by it all, I became intoxicated with desire whenever I heard the doorknob turn. Chastity continued to ignore whatever I said. My reactions to her manipulative ministrations seemed to please her but she took no direct pleasure in mine. I had no responsibility and no power to bring her to orgasm. Her sexual repertoire widened to include dildos inserted in my mouth and ass. My horror at taking a cock-shaped piece of rubber into my mouth soon diminished. I had been desensitized to the thought by the increasing size of the nipples on the baby bottles with which she fed me and perhaps by my increasing.

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