The ruffly skirts of the dress came to my mid thighs and my boobsseemed to stick out a mile from the form fitting bodice. I watched asTracy smiled. "Perfect, Greg."I went to the bathroom and gazed at myself in the full length mirror.Tracy had said that it was a sissy dress and that was an understatement.The dress made me feel like I was confined within a realm where I had nochoice but to believe that I was a girl. In fact, a young girl, and thatTracy was much older than me, like a big sister. Really, Tracy was morelike a grown woman and I was her young child. The dress put me in adifferent world than hers. I was in a child's realm, powerless andforced to do her biding. I was like a slave girl, but anytime I wantedto gain my freedom I could do it. I was not shackled physically, butonly through my unbounded desire for her. She was entirely right thather vagina had become my master. Who in their right mind could give upaccess to that most beautiful of pussies? Being her slave was a. .."Q... Tee." That drooping mouth somehow managed a creditable smirk, evenas his slightly moist palm waved in greeting. "Who?" Uh... Mr. Gilles? I'm Karen Foster Klein?" I forced a sexy smile, evenas my brother displayed slight arousal before this cute chick. "I'm hereon a matter of some importance. It's about Carl Kolchak." Right?" he mumbled weakly from beneath the clear mask. Still, thoselucid eyes undressed me which I found encouraging, if not more than alittle creepy."Folks consider him to be MIA," I stressed, scooting a chair up next tohis bed.Gill Man; as we used to call him, took the news with unusual calm. Irealized in that moment that Dillon had probably come to the sameconclusion I did. Our past was catching up with us."Only..." One?" I blurted out, wondering how many of the seven had died from thisunnatural suffocation. Gilles thought he was all alone now, and inprinciple he'd have been correct. "Right." Mr. Gilles..." I began again, not quite sure how to broach the.
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