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I looked over my wineglass at the man sitting across the table and slowly tapped my long, dark-red fingernails. Surely he didn’t think I was going to believe what he was telling me…? And then I realized. He had spoken too much truth, and he thinks that I will be as relieved as him at not having to face it. Relieved enough to grasp at any weak excuse he can throw out… expecting me to say “Oh, yes, honey, I understand. Thought all along you were just trying to play a little joke. Of course you couldn’t *really* want any of those things you admitted to late at night, after too much wine.” The problem–for him, at least–was that I was quite taken with the ideas he had proposed… thinking about those ideas all week had only made me more eager to make them reality. A reality he clearly wanted to deny now. I have been in a state of perpetual arousal from the thoughts racing through my head for days. I am in no mood for this.
Despite a very impressive figure, standing a full 6 feet tall before putting on my customary high heels, I have never had any real relationship work out. Rumor has it I’m too aggressive once I get seriously involved with someone. Apparently, it was that rumor which led this man, who I have now been dating for 6 months, to strike up an acquaintance.

In the last few days I had found some websites from the clues he dropped in our little conversation, and I had done some reading… and viewing. What I found out had aroused me more than anything I had seen in my life. The idea of fulfilling that promise, of being served by this man in the way I had always desired, but never even admitted to myself…

No way was I going to let him out of this now.

He would find out well and truly how accurate the phrase “silken trap” could be.

I swirled the wine idly. “So you wouldn’t really want to find out how the other half lives? Is it beneath you now, Timothy? Should I be insulted?” I kept my tone gently teasing.

He swallowed. “No… that is…”

I looked into his eyes and smiled. “Why not? It might help you understand a different perspective. I’m sure that I have something which would fit you.” A safe assumption, given that I was about an inch taller than he and, while he was a bit broader through the torso, we were close enough in size.

He shook his head. “I–uh…”

I stood up and he trailed off. Setting down my glass, I took his hand and pulled him up with a grin. “It’ll be fun. Just like playing around as kids. I think it would be cute. I never had a sister to play with.”

He shook his head more firmly this time, finally realizing that I wasn’t letting him off the hook and this wasn’t going at all the way he had clearly planned it. I could see him set himself, both mentally and physically, as he dug his heels into my carpet and stopped. Time for a new tack…

“Well, you got my hopes up…. I was thinking of you when I bought myself a new silk shirt yesterday… wouldn’t you at least try that on for me? Just the shirt?”

I could see him weighing this… as long as he got to keep his pants on, he felt fairly safe, and I knew he would be planning on fantasizing about this for months…

I took his hand again, and started towards my bedroom in a business-like way. Not being able to organize his thoughts into coherent objections, he followed.

I brought him over in front of the closet, then turned to face him and grinned. I slid my hands under his shirt and caressed him for a moment, until I felt him definitely relaxing… I leaned forward, nibbled on his earlobe, and breathed in his ear: “You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you? It’s such a small request…”

I pulled his shirt off and reached inside the closet, where I had laid some things out in advance. Just as he nodded his agreement, I brought out the bra I had waiting.

“Hey, wait a minute! I only agreed to a shirt.” He frowned and started backing away.

I walked forward confidently, “You agreed to let me see how well the shirt would fit. I can’t tell that without seeing how it looks over this. It would look silly without a bra, and how could I tell if it fit then?”

He reluctantly allowed me to slide the straps up onto his shoulders, frowning at me as I fastened it in back. I decided to skip stuffing it with anything. This bra was the lightly padded “extra support” type which would keep its shape fine for a few minutes with only a silk shirt over it.

Walking back to the closet, I pulled out a dusty-rose colored wisp of a silk shirt, with princess lines which give the wearer a graceful feminine figure, regardless of her–or his–actual figure. Apparently Timothy had decided to go along with me gracefully; he allowed me to pull the shirt over his head–with an air that he was humoring me, which I didn’t believe for a minute.

I adjusted the long shirt on him, noting with pleasure that it fit perfectly and even gave a suggestion of hips, since it was a long shirt and not tucked in. I led him over between the bed and the mirror and turned him to face his image. “Cute, isn’t it?”

“Well, it does fit, and I’m sure it will look darling on you…” He started to reach down, to take it off, but I stepped in front of him and caught his hands.

“What’s your hurry?” I ran a hand lightly over his new-found curves, “I think silk is so sexy…”

He pulled away, with a hint of desperation. “I think that this whole thing has gone far enough; you’ve had your fun. I’m sorry that I joked around after all that wine–”

I cut him off by reaching down and finding his cock with my hand. It was rock-hard and radiating heat I could feel even through the layers of cloth. I looked him in the eye, “Can you deny *this*? I know you like the way you look. I like the way you look. Why resist this?”

His eyes widened in shock; he had never considered that I might reach down and find the inarguable truth for myself. I could see the fear in his eyes as he exploded, “It’s perverted! Its humiliating! Even schoolchildren look down on cowards and sissies!”

I pushed him down on the bed and straddled him, pinning him down by surprise and strength nearly equal to his own. I already knew that in this position he could not escape me, and I was determined that he not escape himself, either.

I spoke to him in a husky voice, “What does it matter what anyone else would think, as long as we both like it? I’ve done some reading over the last week. I think the idea of having my own pretty little maid to serve me is the hottest thing I’ve heard since I realized boys were kind of interesting. I want to see you dressed up fully. I want to see you kneel at my feet to offer me a drink, or ask if you may please me. And I will never believe that you don’t want to be kneeling there at my feet, ready to serve me.”

He started to shake his head, open fear on his face now. I felt my heart go out to him, but for both our sakes, I couldn’t afford to show any mercy now. I hardened my voice, “Or would you rather live in denial? You think lying and denying what you want is less cowardice than facing yourself, and living up to your” I softened my voice just slightly, “beautiful potential?”

He was staring up at me now, unable to respond. I was so tempted to force him over the edge, and have what I wanted from him, but I knew that he had to make this choice for himself, or he would fight it later.

The concept of being forced into slavery is a hot fantasy, but it is the heart which makes the difference between true submission, which holds more securely than all the chains which have ever been forged, or merely grudging service. I wanted full and knowing consent. I wanted to look into his eyes and know that he knelt before me because he chose to. Because he wanted to give me that gift and was himself strong enough to give it, not because I was strong enough to force it.

I had no doubts of my own strength, and only by facing himself and choosing to kneel at my feet, to yield to whatever I chose to give, could he prove to me that he was as strong in his way as I was in mine. Only in this way could he prove his worth, and when I realized that I knew what had always been missing from my relationships.

I looked down at him relentlessly as I awaited his decision. Inside, my heart ached, but nothing of that showed on my stern face. He licked his lips, and in his moment of sudden shyness I knew I had won. He had stopped fighting me, but he didn’t know how to say it, or where to go from here.

I stood up, releasing him, and spoke in a quiet, firm voice.

“Kneel at my feet.”

He knelt and bowed his head.

I pulled a ribbon out of the drawer next to me.

“Look at me”

He looked into my eyes, and I could see that he had no further hesitation, only a desire to live up to whatever I asked of him. I held out the bit of ribbon.

“Kiss it.”

He leaned forward and reverently placed a kiss on the pink satin ribbon. I looked down into his eyes.

“This ribbon is the symbol of your submission, your gift of yourself to me. Do you know why I chose to use this ribbon rather than a collar, something leather, with buckles and perhaps locks?”

He shook his head.

“This symbol embodies to nature of your submission to me. It is a thing of delicate beauty, just as you yourself are. It is tied around your neck in a bow. You could, physically speaking, remove it at any time. But emotionally, you cannot. I see in your eyes that you would never choose to renounce this now that you have faced it, and I want you to have this reminder. The ever-present knowledge that, if you had to, you would fight to keep this collar on–never to remove it. Let there be no mistake and no further denials. You are held to me by something far stronger than leather and chain.

“You are held here by your desire, and my will. Do you understand?”

He leaned down and gently kissed the top of my foot, giving me a hint of pleasures to come. He looked up at me and whispered, “Yes, my Mistress”

I tied the ribbon in a bow around his neck and looked him over.

“The shirt is lovely, but it lacks something… take off the rest of your male clothes. Do not stand up to do so.”

He squirmed around, awkwardly following these first orders. I reached into the closet and pulled out the rest of the clothes I had ready for him. I handed him first the white leather garter-belt. Once he had gotten those on–without a trace of the confusion a man could be expected to display in figuring out how all the different straps went, I noted–I gave him the white stockings, with their cute little pink and burgundy bows at the top. He slid them on with obvious pleasure. I smiled to myself… I had been anticipating the next part most of all.

“You may stand up… and put your hands on the bed. Legs spread.”

His eyes widened, but he did as I commanded with no hesitation. I’m not above letting him wonder what I might want him in that position for, so I took my time finding what I needed in the drawer where I had prepared the toys I wanted to use. Finally, I came towards him with nothing more threatening than a long bit of silken cord, about 4 feet of it. His relaxation when he saw that was, I rather thought, premature.

I reached around him and wrapped the cord around the base of his hard cock. I whispered in his ear, “We have to get your little clitty under control, girl.”

He moaned and tried to move against my hand. I slapped him lightly but meaningfully. “None of that. Not yet.”

I criss-crossed the cord, wrapping it around and crossing it over and under his hard cock. When I reached the tip I crossed it one more time and pulled downward, and then backward. Holding the cord taut I spoke again, “Stand up and put your legs together, girl.”

He stood, trying to bring his legs together without hurting himself. watching him, I pulled a bit to one side and helped him get arranged so that he could move fairly well. When it was all in place, I tied the cord tightly to the back of his garter belt.

“There… now I just happen to have these lacy panties in your size…”

I pulled out a white pair of lace panties with little burgundy bows along the front. He took them and, looking up at me, kissed them lightly before sliding them up his long legs. I smiled and handed him the final bit of his new outfit, a white twist mini skirt. He pulled it on over all the lace and tucked the soft silk shirt in. I stepped back to admire my handiwork so far. The skirt just missed being completely transparent; I could see the little burgundy bows through the thin material and the bows of his stocking peeked out whenever he moved too fast and a breeze caught the skirt.

“You look darling. Just a few more touches…”

I pushed him down on the bed. I had studies his face over our unfinished, but now forgotten dinner well enough to determine what I wanted to use. I pulled out a medium pink lipstick and lipliner, some dark green eyeliner, pale green eyeshadow, and a powder base which I thought would suit him.

I quickly dusted his face with the powder. “Close your eyes for a moment.” I lined his eyes with the eyeliner, top and bottom, followed by the eyeshadow. Years of practice doing my own face, and occasionally helping other girls allowed me to make quick work of this.

“Look at me.”

God, his eyes looked huge now. His eyes were so dilated from arousal I could hardly see the green irises even with the eyeliner to bring it out.

“Pucker up your mouth, girl”

I lined his mouth carefully, reshaping it ever so slightly to suit me, and filled it in with the smooth lipstick. Looking at him, fully made over, I was unable to resist leaning down and sliding my lips over his. When I raised my head, I could see a trace of my own dark red lipstick mingling on his lips and I smiled.

“You’ve been such a good girl… have a look at yourself in the mirror.

I watch him walk carefully over to the mirror and saw his eyes go round with shock as he looked at himself…

“You need a new name now, my dear. I can hardly call such a delicate flower “Timothy, now can I? I think… I think Christina would be better. Tina for short. Do you like your new name, Tina?”

He… *she* tore her eyes off her own image and looked at me, still looking shocked. “Yes, Mistress”

I smiled. “Well, then, are you going to be a good girl and show me how much you appreciate my changes?”

I seated myself on the edge of my bed. My own dark skirt was not much longer than the one Tina now wore and I, in preparation for this, was wearing no panties. “Kneel at my feet, girl.”

I tossed a small white satin pillow on the floor in front of my feet. She moved quickly and more gracefully than I would have thought she could move, gliding lightly to perch on her knees on the pillow at my feet. She looked up at me with those big eyes. “What do you wish, my Mistress?”

I leaned over and entwined my fingers in her short hair. I parted my legs and grinned. “Well, since you are obviously so satisfied with the change I have made in you, Tina, my girl, I want you to show your satisfaction by pleasing me.”

Tina–even when she had been Timothy, which seemed like years ago–had always had a special talent for pleasing me with her nimble tongue, but this time I almost came just from the feel of her hot breath as she leaned towards me. I moaned out loud, riding a wave of pleasure as all the stimulation of the evening was triggered to release by a couple of light flicks of her tongue, as she tasted for herself the evidence of my arousal. She moaned softly as she licked up the wetness which had been building for what seemed like hours.

I ran my fingernails down her back and she slowly ran her tongue along the edge of my lips, teasing me and making me want to untie her and have her right then and there. I refrained only because I had plans for that… another night. For now, I wanted her to learn to please me and to accept no release herself. Later, when she was better trained, I would be more willing to indulge her, but for now she must learn her place… I told myself that as I gasped out “Faster!” and teetered on the brink of my second climax. Tina slid the tip of one finger inside me and flicked her tongue back and forth over my swollen clit until I went over the edge.

I released her and leaned back, gasping. She knelt obediently at my feet, waiting to see what I wished of her next. When I had caught my breath, I pulled her up onto the bed.

“You realize that now that you are mine possession, you cannot expect to have your own release unless you do something special to please me, don’t you?”

She looked down and nodded, “yes, Mistress”

“Good. For tonight, you will sleep like you are now. With one addition. I will cuff your hands together and tie you loosely to the bed. If you need to get up to use the bathroom or for any other reason, you must get my permission first, understood?”

Tina nodded, keeping her eyes down, “yes, Mistress”

I took the soft cuffs I had purchased and approached her.

“Mistress, may I use the bathroom first?”

I nodded. “Don’t forget that you are a girl now. You must use the bathroom like a girl. No more standing up. And be careful not the get your ribbon dirty.”

Tina nodded again and minced cutely across the room. God, look at her wiggle her ass…why hadn’t we done this ages ago? I fastened the cuffs to the bed and when she returned I secured her wrists in the cuffs. As an afterthought, I added a white satin blindfold.

I took a quick shower and prepared for bed, plotting all the time about what to do to her tomorrow.

to be continued……….

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