Marilyntaught me how to put on the bra by fastening it behind my back, myslender arms, twisted behind my back like a yogi. She then demandedthat I pr...ctice putting my bra on and taking it off ten times. As ifI'll ever need this skill again, I thought.She finally handed me her scoop neck brown and white striped tshirt withthe short, feminine cap sleeves. I slipped the blouse on, again feelingthe feminine clothes and underthings strangling my masculinity, like wetburlap smothering a small. Good, now use only your fingertips and feel the pulsing energy there." I did what the book instructed and found myself moaning in ecstacy as I touched myself. A deep building power grew within my loins and I knew that I needed to come soon or forever feel frustrated. "Now," the book read. "Buckle your pants up and stop. That is all the pleasure you will allow yourself today." What!" I yelled at the book. "Why have you built me up so much!?" I pushed the book away and brought both hands to my. Each blow was placed by the hand of an artist. The cane rose, it circled and gathered speed. Then its orbit changed and it drew across the flesh as it contacted to rip the delicate and massage softened skin with the ridges of the bamboo rod.The young woman was Lo Liluoang’s torturer. She administered the most wicked punishments with a small childlike smile and a touch of the fingers to her full lips. She filled the canes with lead shot and ensured that enough tamarind had been added to the soak. “Am I pretty?” she asked, softly.I finally stopped looking at her tits and pussy and looked at her face.“You know you are,” I said. “Don’t fish for compliments.”“I do not know I am,” she said. “I know some other girls who are pretty, but nobody tells me I’m pretty.”“Yes,” I said, not wanting to have this argument. “You’re pretty. You’re better than pretty. You’re gorgeous.”“Really?”“Last week didn’t convince you?” I asked. “Remember how I perved out?”“Are you perving out now?” she asked.This.