‘I’m so sorry. It was wrong.’ ‘But I was…’ Tom lowered his voice. ‘I was so close. I was about to… you know.’ The conductor’s voic... rang out over the public address, announcing the train’s imminent arrival at Slough, where Emma was due to catch the number 58 bus to Pinewood. She grabbed her cardigan and handbag and stood, her bosom hovering imperiously and erotically over Tom’s baffled, scarlet face. Should she leave him like this? What was the right thing to do? Leave him or relieve him? He. From time to time, Mistress would reach in as she wasperforming her ritual and squeeze a nipple between her glossyfingernails. She provided constant reminders of my powerlessness,bringing my body to a sensually painful awareness of itstransition away from masculinity.My legs, shaved smooth, had been shrouded in stockings, themicro-fibers hugging my legs and ever so slightly shaping them infeminine form. Turning me on the stool, Mistress graced me withher loving and powerful gaze. Wordlessly,. More

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