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Max Swyft has done it again! He's written another sexy story about a young man surrounded by stronger women, who are determined to uncover his innate feminine self. This reads like a memoire of a long and slow seduction, written Mr. Swyft's engaging style.

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    I feel like a doll on display. It's terribly humiliating but there seems nothing I can do about it. I'm back in the parlor and the windows have grown dark. There is still a fire on the hearth and Mrs. Spillane and my aunt Martha are teasing me. It's about the clothes I wear. I couldn't very well get back into my wet clothes so I'm wearing a long terrycloth robe that goes to my ankles. It's a girl's robe and that's not so bad. Some of those things look unisex enough. It's what I wear underneath the robe and the cute little slippers that peek under the long hem. That's what's so upsetting.

    Mrs. Spillane and my aunt insist I show them the pink peignoir underneath. It's very thin, nearly transparent and it does little to hide the panties; full-cut like mod briefs, but painties just the same.

    It seems there are no boys clothes for me to don temporarily. I think Hildy the maid deliberately chose the feminine garments to embarrass me. She had the outfit laid out on the bed when I came out of the bathroom. I argued with her but she said it was the best che could do. Unless I wanted to go naked for the mistress and my aunt.