Just how much I was being Harriet, and how much I was still Harry. On our way home, she told me she was very pleased with Harriet.“I forgot to ask y...u, did you give Greg my numbers?” She asked me right after we'd walked into the house.“No.”“Why not?” She demanded.“You didn't ask me too,” I replied, struggling to keep a grin off my face.“Yes I did!” She almost shouted.“No, you asked Harry to give Greg your numbers, not me,” I jokingly countered in my soft feminine voice. “But he knows how much I. I was practically salivating at howsexy she looked. Not that I could do anything about it, with my penislocked away in a small chastity tube, plastic with wraparound stripesin rainbow colors.The instant I entered the room my eyes were drawn to the dresser, wherea manniquin head stood, and on it a short wig of tight yellow curls.She was going to make me look even more like Cupid and less like a man.Rather than risk angering her by hesitating or objecting, I lifted thegolden adornment and placed. More

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