There left only about 12 people in the bar all were Purple Dinosaurs or their women. When Susan got off the phone she noticed that something was odd. ...everal of the gang members were walking towards her, and the door was closed. The big guy who had been hitting on her was in the lead and had a cruel, deranged look on his face. He walked right up to her, grabbed the back of her head and locked it in place. Then he looked her right in the eye and began spitting on her face. Over and over again. Actually no one did. My dad use to punishme every time I got caught with my mom's things, and my mom wasn't anyhelp. All she'd say was, "Brian. You're a boy and boys don't wear girls'clothes."I suffered until I was out of high school. Fortunately I was fairlysmart, in fact I got a full ride scholarship to a well-known university.And, it was there that my life changed.There was a freshman psychology class that everyone had to take, and oneof the things covered was gender identity disorder.. Though perhaps he would let he keep the stockings and garters. She looked so cute in them."Yes, I could enjoy having you as a slave," Jason said in a low voice. "But if I did, it would have to be complete. You would know only being my slave and nothing else. I could never let you go, as it may be too traumatic for you."Melinda trembled as he withdrew his hand. "I doubt Aunt Jo had any plans to let me go, Jason," she said in a small, uncertain voice.Jason was getting too excited. A stiff cock. From then on, it's 'touch the girl'. I feel hands all over my body, soft and tender hands gently caressing me, others fondling and pinching and slapping me roughly. It is not entirely unpleasant. The sensation of being at their disposal, to be at the center of attention, is not without effect. I'm not exactly enjoying it, but it could be worse. It gets even better. I'm standing in the presenting position as I hear someone ask about a number 7 or something like that but can't hear her response.