“You do know why you’re wearing that, don’t you?” she asked solemnly. “Not really,” I answered honestly, “Something to do with last nigh...?” “Everything to do with last night.” “I’m sorry.” “Are you a sissy boy?” “No!” “I think you are a sissy boy, John. I think you like to get off while wearing girls’ clothing.” “No…” I started to say, trying to think of an appropriate excuse. “Somebody enjoys it,” she said, smiling at last and holding my swollen shaft through the cotton. She got up on her. I leaned closer and said, “Now… spread your legs for me, like a good girl.”Her eyes closed for a moment, then opened again. The look in them was pleading, and she was biting her lower lip. She was dying to speak, I could tell – to beg me to release her from my last instruction – and it was a measure of how far she’d fallen under my influence that after a long moment of staring into my eyes she simply… obeyed.Her own eyes became slightly edged with tears as she parted her legs – slightly at. More

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