My fingertips move to caress your temple making you even more sleepy, you close your eyes, trusting me completely that I will not harm you. My hands s...nk lower to your neck and face, still massaging softly and covering your eyes so the only sensations available to you is touch and sound. You murmur to me how much you like this and ask me to keep going. My spirit breathes out the answer without words but you know that your wishes so recently spoken will be carried out. Now there is change again. But please call me Wally, why insist on formalities?"His chuckle was mild.Fred touched the hand and smiled back nervously. What the hell was going on? Who was this guy, this sweet talking daddy of a man?Who let him out of the classroom?"I hope you don't mind if I call you Winnifred, Ms Burkle? Or maybe even better: Fred? I have been looking forward to at last meeting a woman with some intellectual baggage. You know how it is around here."He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands.Fred tried. He thought of itas his dirty little secret and avoided anyone discovering it.As a pre-pubescent child, he used to dress up in his mother's clothes,not knowing why, but aware that he was doing something enjoyable, butmost definitely wrong. In his teenage years he bought a few things ofhis own, and it was made easier later, when he moved to his ownapartment. He always thought of it as a substitute for sex, he wouldmasturbate even at the thought of dressing, so once married, he believedthat he. They wore slave collars and were barefoot.Hank was professionally dressed for a presentation in a dark pinstripe suit, contrasting striped shirt and a print tie. One would have to be very near Hank to see that his tie was tastefully printed with tiny cartoon characters. A pair of black wing-tip shoes completed his costume. One of the nude women carried a small brief case containing Hank's notes and a memory stick.The five people walked across the deserted banquet room floor and up on the stage..