Plus Ben of course and his friend Marty who’d brought the dog over. All I had on were my knee high; high-heeled boots. I’d expected a golden Labra...or (that was what my sister had said); but this was a Red Setter. Has he done this before? I asked, peering dubiously at the dog. I realized I could just see the pink tip of his erection. Oh yeah, Marty said. What’s his name? Bruno. Based upon what my sister had told me to do; I sat down on the armchair, my legs spread, my hands in my crotch.. Most crossdressers whobought women's clothing played the game. The garment was for theirgirlfriend, or for their wife. Both sides knew better, but neither onesaid it.With me? There was no game. Mistress would tell them straight out thatI was becoming her sissy, that I needed panties and bras. A couple ofsaleswomen offered their fitting rooms. After all, dollars don't comein pink, do they? They wanted my cash, the same as they would with agenetic girl. Mistress asked which panties fit better if. More

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