Sleep mercifully took herquickly.Dave woke slowly. He had been dreaming of strange things. He had beenchanged into Carl's dream girl, sex slave. 'Weir...!' he thought. Hestretched and rubbed his eyes. An errant thought came to mind. 'Why dowomen rub their eyes when they wake up? Answer: because they don't haveany balls to scratch.' He chuckled at that. As the action oftenaccompanies the thought, he reached down to scratch his balls. His handmoved to where his balls were, but instead of his. Which, I guess, meant my shirt was either made by a fat tailor, which I doubted was the meaning, or was "heavily made", which was especially confusing as it was made of a very light material. On the other hand, it made as much sense as everything else here. The shirt didn't even have buttons all the way up; only about two-thirds of the way. It tightly hugged my waist, torso and chest, until it opened at the top to display a lot more of my chest than I'd ever unbutton a normal shirt to. It had. More

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