..even if it wasjust for the private pleasure of my three tormentors!"But first, I've picked out the sissiest of lingerie for our panty-stealing, pant...-sniffing pansy-boy!" She handed me a waist-cincher. Itwas boned. It was trimmed with oodles of hot-pink, ruffled lace. It wasvirgin-white satin. It had hooks and eyes to secure it in the front andsturdy nylon lacing in the rear which, even to my na?ve eyes, wouldconstrict my waist to a miniscule dimension.She wrapped the eight-inch wide satin. Gene Brooks was happy to be getting back to his wolves. It seemed to him that he had never been truly happy except in the vicarious participation in their lives that his first visit a year and a half ago had allowed. Life had twisted his mind brutally, and he was dimly aware that he was like a time bomb, just waiting to explode. The peace of the mountain, and the enjoyment of watching the two animals live their hard but simple lives was the most serene period he could remember. He had had to. More

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