Jude lay sprawled on his bed, the dim light from his bedside lamp casting long shadows across the room. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, the cool sheets beneath him doing little to calm the fire burning inside. The steel chastity belt around his cock and balls was snug, almost taunting him with its unyielding presence.

It had been days—four long, agonizing days. What had started as an impulsive decision had quickly turned into a relentless test of endurance. Freja had locked the belt on with a smirk and a teasing, “Let’s see how long you last.” At the time, he’d laughed, confident in his self-control. But now, as hour bled into hour, and day bled into day, he wasn’t laughing anymore.

No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, his mind kept circling back to her. Freja was captivating in a way that felt almost unfair. Her confidence alone could have ensnared him, but it was more than that. The way her blonde hair framed her sharp features, how her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and that body—wrapped so tightly in glossy black latex that it seemed to redefine the word irresistible.

Jude groaned softly, burying his face in his hands. He could still hear her teasing Swedish voice, feel her commanding presence as if she were right there in the room with him. That memory of her leaning close, whispering into his ear as she secured the lock, sent shivers down his spine.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. The way she moved with effortless grace, exuding control. Her latex-clad body, curving in all the right places, was seared into his mind like a brand. He could almost feel the warmth of her touch, the playful brush of her fingers against his cheek before she left, leaving him locked and aching for her.

The chastity belt was unrelenting, a constant reminder of her dominance. Its design ensured there was no escape, no relief. The key was with Freja, who had been silent since locking him up.

Until tonight.

Jude’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling him from his haze of frustration. He grabbed it quickly, almost fumbling in his eagerness. The screen lit up with a message from Freja, her name alone enough to make his heart race.

"Meet me at the Bondage munch on Saturday at 9 PM."

His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he reread the message. No teasing, no explanation—just a command. And yet, even without a playful edge, it sent a surge of energy through him.

He typed a reply quickly:

“Yes, Freja."

The message sent, the little "delivered" notification appearing beneath it. Jude waited, staring at the screen, his mind swirling with questions. Would she unlock the chastity belt there? What would she say? What would she do?

He typed another message, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Freja, please, just tell me… are you going to let me out of the chastity cage?"

No reply.

Minutes ticked by, each one stretching into eternity. He tried again.

"Freja, I can’t take this. I need to know."

Still nothing.

Jude groaned, tossing the phone onto the bed beside him. The ache in his body seemed to intensify with her silence, her refusal to acknowledge his pleas. He clutched a pillow tightly, trying to calm his racing thoughts, but it was no use. She was everywhere in his mind: her voice, her smile, the way her blonde hair gleamed under the light, her latex-clad figure commanding every ounce of his attention.

The belt felt tighter now, the absence of her response amplifying his longing. Saturday felt impossibly far away, but Jude knew there was nothing he could do but wait—and obey.

Freja was in control, and she knew it.

Jude arrived at the much a complete nervous wreck. He was so horny, and couldn’t get Freja out his head.

He approached her and Freja’s smile deepened as she stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Without warning, she slipped her arms around him in a hug, pulling him close. The sudden warmth of her body against his made Jude freeze, his mind racing. Her glossy latex outfit pressed against him, and he couldn’t help but feel the firm yet soft contours of her curves against his restrained, aching form.

Her perfume—a heady mix of sweetness and musk—filled his senses, making it impossible to think about anything else. As she hugged him, she leaned in just enough that the edge of her hips grazed the chastity cage beneath his clothes. The subtle pressure sent a jolt of sensation through him, sharp and maddening.

Freja leaned back slightly, her piercing blue eyes locking onto his, her expression dripping with playful dominance. Her gaze flicked downward, and a knowing smirk crossed her lips. “Hmm, and how’s my little prisoner doing?”

Jude’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he couldn’t look away. “I… it’s tough,” he managed, though his voice trembled with the weight of his longing.

“Tough?” Freja tilted her head, her blonde hair cascading over one shoulder as she studied him with an amused gleam in her eyes. “That’s all you have to say after five days of being locked up? Pathetic,” she said with mock disappointment, though her grin betrayed her amusement. “I thought you’d be more creative than that. Or is the cage doing all the thinking for you now?”

Jude opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The intensity of her presence left him completely tongue-tied.

Freja stepped closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “I bet it aches, doesn’t it? Every time you think about me—every time you see me—it gets worse. I bet it’s driving you absolutely insane.” She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, daring him to admit it.

He swallowed hard. “Y-yes, it is,” he stammered, the shame and arousal in his voice unmistakable.

Freja’s smirk widened. “Good,” she said simply, brushing a hand over his shoulder as if he were an obedient pet. “It’s exactly where you belong—locked up, aching, and completely under my control.”

She placed a hand on her hip, the glossy latex gleaming under the soft lights. “Now,” she said sharply, “since you’re here, let’s put you to work. Hold this.” She handed him her small black handbag, the shiny patent leather matching her outfit.

Jude clutched it tightly, the weight of it in his hands serving as a physical reminder of her authority.

“And,” she continued, her tone leaving no room for argument, “I’m thirsty. Go to the bar and get me a drink—something sweet. Don’t mess it up.”

“Yes, Freja,” Jude said quickly, eager to please.

Freja smirked. “That’s Mistress Freja to you,” she corrected, her voice dripping with authority. “Don’t forget it.”

“Yes, Mistress Freja,” Jude corrected himself, his cheeks burning as he hurried off toward the bar.

By the time he returned with a fruity cocktail in hand, Freja was seated at a small table, chatting casually with another guest. She didn’t even look at him at first, forcing him to stand there awkwardly until she finally turned her attention to him.

“Ah, there you are,” she said, her tone playful but dismissive. She took the drink from his hand, inspecting it as if to judge whether it was good enough. “Not bad. I’ll allow it.”

Jude’s chest swelled with pride at the small bit of approval, but Freja wasn’t finished.

Jude stood awkwardly, unsure of whether to sit or wait for further instructions. Freja noticed and let out a small laugh. “Honestly, you’re hopeless,” she said, patting the chair next to her. “Sit down—but don’t get too comfortable. I might need you again.”

As he sat, the chastity belt pressed uncomfortably against him, the ache almost unbearable. He could barely focus, completely captivated by Freja. Her blonde hair shimmered like spun gold, and her glossy black latex hugged her curves perfectly, making her look like some kind of goddess. She radiated confidence, power, and authority, and Jude couldn’t stop staring.

Freja leaned closer, her voice low and teasing. “You know,” she said, brushing her fingers lightly against his arm, “it’s adorable how desperate you are. I bet you’ve been counting the days, haven’t you? Thinking about me, about this—every single night while that little cage keeps you under control.”

Jude’s breath hitched. “I… I have,” he admitted, his voice trembling.

Freja smirked. “Of course you have,” she said, her tone dismissive but pleased. “You’re completely mine now, aren’t you?

Locked up, aching, and pathetically eager to do whatever I say. And you love it.”

Jude’s heart raced, her words cutting through him like a blade. He did love it—her confidence, her beauty, her bossiness.

He wanted nothing more than to please her, to earn her approval, to prove himself worthy of her attention.

Freja stood up with an air of confident ease, adjusting her latex gloves as she glanced back at him. Her lips curved into a teasing smile. "I need to freshen up," she said smoothly, her voice low and commanding. "Be a good boy and keep my seat warm while I’m gone." She leaned in just enough for him to catch the faint scent of her perfume before winking and striding off toward the bathroom, her hips swaying with every step.

Jude hesitated, his cheeks flushed. Her presence lingered even after she disappeared from sight. Tentatively, he slid into her chair, the warmth where she’d been sitting still radiating from the seat. The sensation, coupled with her instructions, sent his thoughts racing. He adjusted slightly, his chastity cage pressing uncomfortably against him, a constant reminder of his predicament and how much she had him under her spell.

Moments later, the sound of her heels tapping against the floor drew his attention. Freja returned, her eyes locking onto his with a predatory gleam. Without missing a beat, she stepped behind him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and whispered, "You look good there." Before he could respond, she turned, gracefully lowered herself, and sat her thick firm ass directly on his lap, her latex-clad ass cheeks pressing firmly against him.

Jude’s breath hitched as her warmth and weight settled over him. He could feel every curve of her, the smooth texture of the latex amplifying the sensation. His body reacted instantly, straining against the chastity cage in a futile attempt at relief. Freja leaned back, letting her hair brush his cheek, and whispered in his ear, her voice a sultry tease.

"Someone’s a little excited," she murmured, her lips so close that he could feel her breath. "I can feel it, you know. How much you want me. How badly that little cage is keeping you in check." Her fingers trailed lightly along his arm, sending shivers through him.

Jude swallowed hard, his face burning with a mix of arousal and embarrassment as he could feel the warmth of her ass cheeks on his legs. "I…" he started, but her finger pressed against his lips, silencing him.

"Shh," she whispered, shifting slightly in his lap, causing him to let out a barely audible whimper. "You’re doing exactly what I want. Such a good boy, sitting there, holding me. Aren’t you?"

He nodded, his throat too tight to form words. The sensation of her body against his, combined with the unrelenting restriction of the chastity cage, made his desire almost unbearable. Freja smirked knowingly, leaning in to speak to other people at the table.

“Now,” she ordered, her voice firm but teasing as she turned her attention back to Jude. Jude obeyed, leaning closer to her as she took her handbag from his hands. She gestured to it with a sly smirk. “I’ve got a little something for you.”

Jude’s brow furrowed, his heart racing as Freja opened the bag and pulled out a pair of delicate pink panties and a matching bra, their lace trim shimmering under the soft lights of the room. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as he looked at the garments, unsure of what to expect next.

Freja’s gaze never left him as she held them up, inspecting them with a smile. “You’re going to wear these,” she said confidently, her voice leaving no room for argument. “Go on. Take them into the bathroom and put them on.”

Jude hesitated, his embarrassment taking over. He opened his mouth to protest but found himself silenced by Freja’s piercing gaze. Her look was firm, commanding. He knew there was no way out.

With a quiet sigh, he nodded, taking the items from her hand with trembling fingers. He rose up and turned toward the bathroom, trying to steady his nerves, and slipped inside. The soft fabric of the panties and bra felt foreign against his skin, and as he fumbled with them, his discomfort only grew as his cock strained against the chastity belt underneath the pink panties. The sensation was oddly arousing, and the knowledge that Freja was waiting for him, watching him, made the whole experience even more intense.

When Jude finally returned, his face a deep shade of crimson, Freja was staring at him, her eyes glinting with amusement. She leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, the sound of latex creaking softly as she moved. The way she held herself, the sheer confidence radiating from her, made Jude feel even more exposed than he already was.

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs elegantly, the latex creaking softly as she moved.

“Well?” she said, her voice playful but edged with authority. “Did you do as you were told?”

Jude nodded, his face burning as he stood before her. “Yes, Mistress Freja,” he said quietly.

Freja’s smirk widened, and she gestured for him to come closer. “Let me see.”

Jude hesitated for only a moment before he pulled up his shirt just enough to reveal the pink lace waistband of the panties and the pink bra. Freja’s laughter was immediate, soft and delighted, but not unkind.

“Aww, look at you,” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. “You look absolutely adorable. I knew you’d be a good girl for me.”

Jude’s heart pounded, the mixture of embarrassment and pride making his head spin. “Thank you, Misstress Freja,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Freja reached out and tugged lightly on the waistband of his panties, her smile widening. “I hope you’re comfortable, because you’re staying like this for the rest of the night,” she said, her tone leaving no room for debate. “And don’t even think about taking them off without my permission.”

“Yes, Mistress Freja,” Jude replied quickly, his voice filled with both nerves and eagerness to please.

Freja leaned back, clearly satisfied. “Good. Now, sit down and behave yourself. I might have more tasks for you later—if you prove yourself worthy.

Jude nodded and sat down, the lace brushing against his skin and the cage beneath, a constant reminder of his submission to her. He couldn’t stop staring at her—the way the latex hugged her curves, the way her blonde hair framed her stunning face, the way she commanded every moment with such effortless confidence. He wanted nothing more than to please her, to be worthy of her attention, to give her everything she asked for.

As Freja sipped her cocktail and turned back to her conversation, Jude sat quietly, his body aching and his mind spinning. Despite the nerves, despite the embarrassment, he couldn’t deny the thrill of being hers.

In the heart of the club, the air was thick with heat and anticipation, the music pulsing through the room like a living thing as the bondage much started. Shadows flickered across the walls, creating a dark, intimate atmosphere, and the crowd swayed in rhythm, oblivious to the intricate power dynamics at play. In the centre of it all stood Freja, a vision of control, her black outfit tight against her body, her eyes glinting with a confident, knowing light.

Jude lay before her in a hogtie, feeling a rush of heat flood his cheeks as his mind raced. His body responded to Freja’s dominance without question, but there was a part of him, deep down, that could hardly believe the position he found himself in. The pink lace panties—delicate and soft—were now on full display, a stark contrast to the rough, exposed vulnerability that surrounded him. His trousers had been pushed down just enough to reveal the panties, and the weight of being so openly exposed made his skin burn with self-consciousness. His heart raced as he could feel the subtle shift of attention from the crowd around them.

He couldn’t help it. His chest tightened, and a flush of embarrassment crept up from his neck, spreading across his face. How could she do this to me? he thought, the contrast of his male appearance and the dainty pink lace flashing in front of him suddenly overwhelming. His heart pounded in his ears, and he could almost feel the eyes of the other club-goers on him, even though the room seemed to fade away into the background as he focused solely on Freja.

Freja, of course, noticed immediately. The subtle shift in his posture, the way his hands twitched behind his back, the faint hitch in his breath as his gaze darted toward the ground. She smirked, enjoying the beautiful vulnerability of it all. "Feeling a little exposed, are we?" she purred, her voice low and teasing as she leaned in close to him, her breath hot against his ear. She could practically taste his embarrassment, savouring the delicate tension in the air.

Jude swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he responded. “Yes, mistress Freja," he admitted, his words barely a whisper. "It’s... it's too much. I—" He cut himself off, unable to finish the sentence, his self-consciousness locking his words in place. His mind was spinning. God, how humiliating. Pink panties—of all things. He couldn’t help but feel like a different person entirely, something softer, something far more vulnerable than he was accustomed to. He shifted again, painfully aware of the way the fabric of the panties hugged his body, the way they were on full display for everyone to see.

Freja's eyes sparkled with amusement, watching him squirm. She revelled in the way he reacted, his usual composure crumbling beneath her gaze. "You’re beautiful like this, Jude," she whispered, her fingers tracing the waistband of the panties, teasing just around the edge but never fully touching the chastity belt underneath. "Your little secret on display for me. So pretty in pink... and yet, you’re so self-conscious about it."

Jude’s face burned hotter. His erection, trapped in the chastity belt, was straining painfully as his body responded to the control she had over him, but the embarrassment of having the panties revealed was overwhelming. He hated the way it made him feel exposed, almost childlike in a way he hadn’t anticipated. "I—I don’t want them to see," he admitted, his voice thick with shame. "The panties... they’re too much. It’s too... girly."

Freja’s lips curled into a satisfied smile as she stepped back to admire him. She could feel the pulse of power as his self-consciousness bloomed, but she wasn’t done teasing him yet. "Too much? Hmm," she mused, her voice drifting through the air like silk. "Isn’t that the point? You’re here for me, aren’t you? To be seen, to be used. And right now, Jude, you’re exactly what I want you to be. Mine." She eyed the delicate lace of the panties, the soft pink fabric now so visible, almost too fragile to belong to someone like him. It was a perfect visual of the paradox she loved to explore—his submission in the form of something so delicate and vulnerable.

The shame was almost unbearable, his body taut with frustration. His mind buzzed with a mixture of mortification and need. He could barely look up, eyes fixed firmly on the ground as he struggled to push through the overwhelming feeling of exposure. Everyone can see it, he thought. They can all see what I'm wearing. What am I doing?

But beneath that, deep down, the humiliation only made the ache inside the chastity cage worse. It pushed his need for her control even further, the sensation of being completely at her mercy overwhelming his self-consciousness. As much as he hated it, the way she dominated him—drawing attention to his vulnerability—made him crave it more.

"You look so beautiful in these panties, Jude," Freja purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "So soft. So delicate. It’s almost like you were made for me, for this moment. And now, everyone can see just how much you belong to me."

Jude couldn’t speak. His breath came in shallow bursts, the embarrassment of his exposed state holding him frozen. He was painfully aware of the way the pink lace clung to his skin, of the way his body reacted despite the self-consciousness, the way the chastity belt constricted painfully around him. But more than that, he felt an intense, burning longing for Freja’s control, for her to pull him deeper into this humiliation and pleasure. He was completely hers—and somehow, that thought only made the ache more unbearable.

"Don’t worry, Jude," Freja teased, her voice sweet and seductive. "I won’t let anyone else touch you. You’re mine. But tonight? Tonight, you’re going to feel every inch of your submission."

The room seemed to fade again, his awareness shrinking down to nothing but her and the delicate, humiliating tension that held him captive. The panties, the ropes, the belt—all of it was a reminder of just how much control she had over him, and how deep his desire to surrender truly went.

Freja's eyes darkened as she watched Jude squirm in front of her, his body a perfect combination of resistance and yearning. The tension in the air was thick with anticipation, and she could sense just how much he was fighting the desire to beg her for release. She had him exactly where she wanted him: exposed, vulnerable, and on the verge of losing control.

With a slow, deliberate motion, she stepped closer to him, her heels clicking against the floor with every step, adding to the rhythm of his racing heartbeat. Her fingers gently traced the edge of the chastity belt, teasing him with just the slightest touch.

“So perfect in those delicate panties. And that chastity belt...” She whispered, letting the words hang in the air, knowing they had the effect she intended. “It fits so perfectly. Like it was made for you, pushing you to your limit.”

Jude’s breath hitched as her fingers brushed against the waistband of his pink silky panties, but never went further. His whole body tightened in frustration, desire, and humiliation. The more she spoke, the more he felt like he was sinking deeper into his own need for her. The teasing was relentless, and every word she spoke only deepened the ache he felt, a burning longing for release that she refused to give him.

She smiled down at him, her eyes filled with dark amusement. “You thought tonight was the end of your transformation, didn’t you?” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear. “But we’re just getting started.”

Jude's heart skipped a beat. His mind was a swirl of confusion and desire, caught between wanting to obey and wanting to collapse into the surrender she demanded from him. “What do you mean?” he managed to whisper, though he already had an inkling of what was coming.

Freja's fingers lightly traced the edge of the belt again, but this time, she leaned in to speak directly into his ear. “We’re going back to my house, Jude. There’s still so much more to explore, so much more for you to experience. And tonight, you’re going to finish what we’ve started. This little transformation of yours? It’s only just begun.”

She untied him and stepped back then, admiring him with a satisfied, knowing smirk. "You’re mine now, Jude. Every inch of you."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and undeniable. Jude felt his whole body react to the promise, the anticipation of what would come next, the feeling of surrender that overwhelmed him in the best way possible.

Freja turned, her heels clicking sharply as she walked toward the exit of the club, leaving him with a final look over her shoulder. "Are you coming, or do I need to remind you how much you want this?" she teased.

Jude didn't hesitate for a second. His heart raced as he stood up and quickly followed her, knowing that whatever came next, it would be a deep, transformative experience. He was already in too deep, already at her mercy. And for the first time, he wasn’t just accepting it—he was craving it.

Freja and Jude stepped inside her apartment, the faint hum of city noise filtering through the windows. The door clicked shut behind them, and Freja gave him a quick, teasing smile.

"Welcome to my world," she said, her voice low with a playful edge, guiding him through the dimly lit hallway. The place was cozy, cluttered with little treasures—books, plants, and vibrant artwork on the walls. As they moved deeper into the apartment, she led him toward a door at the end of the corridor. It creaked slightly as she pushed it open.

Jude stepped in, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the soft, golden light that spilled from the chandelier above. The room was an eclectic mix of old-world glamour and modern charm, with a large vanity table at its heart. Its reflective surface gleamed, surrounded by a cascade of vintage perfume bottles, jars of makeup, and delicate brushes. Frilly, lace-trimmed dresses were spread out across the table in a careful, but not overly neat, display—some with layers of tulle, others with satin bows, their pastel hues almost ethereal in the glow of the lights.

Freja noticed the way his gaze flickered across the room, and she leaned against the doorframe with a grin, her voice turning teasing. "Well, Jude, it's time for your sissy transformation to begin."

Jude froze, his heart skipping a beat. His eyes darted across the room, scanning the delicate dresses, the soft lace, and the vintage beauty of the space. His face flushed, a nervous thrill running through him as his mind raced. The thought of being the centre of this playful, almost outrageous attention had him feeling both embarrassed and... strangely turned on. His mouth felt dry as he turned back to Freja, trying to make light of the situation.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" he asked, laughing nervously, but there was an edge to his voice that betrayed the mix of excitement and discomfort.

Freja stepped forward with the kind of confidence that made her seem almost untouchable, her gaze locking onto his with a knowing look. She walked over to the vanity, her fingers brushing against the soft fabrics of one of the dresses. "Oh, Jude," she said, her voice low and sultry, "I think you’d look adorable in one of these." She pulled a lace dress from the table, letting the fabric cascade down her fingers like a piece of fine art. "It’s time to let go of the guy you think you are and embrace something a little more... playful."

Jude swallowed hard, his body betraying his embarrassment with the unmistakable tightening in his jeans. His face flushed deeper, and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to mask the discomfort—and the arousal—that suddenly gripped him. As his body responded, he felt a sharp pressure in the chastity cage—something foreign, but undeniably present.

Freja caught the shift in his movements, her grin widening. She moved closer, standing in front of him now, and placed a hand gently on his chest. Her fingers lingered for a moment, and her eyes dropped to where he was now visibly squirming. "Well, well," she purred, her voice thick with amusement. "Looks like someone’s enjoying the idea of becoming my little sissy."

Jude’s face flushed a deep crimson, and he stammered, "I—uh, I... it’s not—"

Freja’s lips curled into a smirk, cutting him off. "Oh, don’t try to lie. I can see it. You’re squirming for a different reason, aren’t you?" She placed her palm flat against his chest.

Jude’s breath hitched in his throat. His body froze for a moment, and then he shifted awkwardly, the tightness of the device pressing into his skin. "I—yes," he admitted, his voice strained with embarrassment.

Freja stepped back slightly, her gaze now focused on him with a predatory look in her eyes. "Oh, you poor thing," she teased, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. "All locked up and all hot and bothered by the thought of me controlling you." She traced a finger lightly across his chest, her eyes flickering to the area where he could feel the device pressing against him. "You must be so frustrated."

Jude couldn’t help but squirm slightly, the tightness of the device making every little movement more uncomfortable yet strangely, intensely arousing. The embarrassment of being so exposed in front of her, coupled with the undeniable feeling of restriction, left him feeling utterly helpless.

Freja stepped closer again, this time pressing herself against him just enough for him to feel the warmth of her body. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. "You want to touch yourself, don’t you?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with dominance.

"But you can’t. Not until I say so."

Jude’s body betrayed him, his arousal painfully obvious despite the frustration of being locked away. "I... I don’t know if I can handle this," he admitted, his voice strained as he fought to maintain control over his own body.

Freja’s smile was all confidence, every inch the woman in control. She gently placed a hand on his crotch, feeling the hardness beneath his clothes. "I think you can," she said, her voice smooth and steady. "Because you have no choice. You’ll be a good little sissy for me, won’t you?"

Jude’s face burned with a mix of humiliation and desire. His pulse raced in his ears as the weight of her words settled in. He was locked away, desperate, and completely at her mercy. He nodded, unable to speak, his mind overwhelmed by the delicious mixture of shame, want, and the electric pull of her dominance.

Freja’s smile softened just for a moment, as if savouring the power she had over him. "Good girl," she whispered, her hand still resting against him.

She smirked to herself as she thought, "Now, let’s see if you can handle your transformation before we go to the largest Comic Con in the country..."

As Freja stepped back, her presence was commanding, her confidence unwavering. Jude, still squirming in his chastity, felt a sharp sense of both humiliation and anticipation—a cocktail of emotions that made him more aware of her power over him than anything else. His sissy maid transformation was about to begin..