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This story is autobiographical, it is entirely true and presented without embellishment. For most of my life I've struggled with unknowns, unknowns about myself and uncertainties. Not so much uncertainties about my gender identity, I identify as male and have no feelings to the contrary but at the same time I've also felt a strong "feminine" side to myself that I couldn't deny but tried suppress, built into those delusions of what's "masculine", what's "feminine" and how it's wrong to cross to the other side, though girls get a bit more leeway when it to crossing that line. "Tom Boys" are okay, but boys who do "girly" things are "sissies." Eventually I discovered the concept of "cross-dressing" and would take as many opportunities as I could to do it. When I was home alone I would find myself in my parents' bedroom trying on my mom's stuff. I was never caught red-handed but in hindsight I'm sure my parents knew and just never confronted me on it, there's just too many ways I could've slipped and left "tells" for them to not have known. Into adulthood the dressing and such became much more of a sexual fetish for me than anything else, I had no delusions of "passing" or anything but at times I just felt comfortable being in some form of women's clothing and putting myself in sexual fantasies of being a female, including playing a female role in intercourse, though I identify as heterosexual. (I've no sexual attraction to men, though I admit there's a couple male celebrities who I'd go for if the unlikely chance should ever present itself but I suspect plenty of men have it within them to admit that if someone like say, Bradley Cooper, approached them they wouldn't turn him down.) I've never been good at relationships, I find my anxiety and various other psychological abnormalities just makes it hard for me to really put myself out there and ask a woman out. I've been in one serious relationship and it mostly started when she mostly forced herself on me. I had gone to her dorm room to fix her computer, afterwards we were talking and she came up, sat on my lap, and just began kissing me. We ended up making out for several hours and started a relationship, we dated for almost two years before she cheated on me and things just couldn't continue. It was the second time in the relationship, the first time we worked for it but the second time there was no coming back. The first time had already caused a bit of a damper on the relationship. During our relationship we have gone to a costume party with me dressed as a cheerleader and her a football player. She had discovered my proclivities by coming across my browser history. She, mostly, accepted it but it seemed she was more wanting a "man's man" which I was not. I was too passive, I always felt like the "secondary" in the relationship. It didn't dawn on me until many, many years later (15 years later, to be exact. 15 years without any kind of serious relationship) what I wanted, but wasn't sure how to get it. I wanted to be in a "Female-Led Relationship." I'd read plenty of stories about feminine domination and such but never really latched onto it being something I wanted or something that was possible or even "real." Stories are stories, you know? So, as I began looking into it I was less and less sure on how to accomplish this, to see my fantasies, as it were, realized. As I looked into it I managed to find some groups and on-line forums for FLRs and domination and such, but it just became more and more unclear on how this was going to happen moving forward. Then I came across the website for a local dominatrix who offers Her "services" following a short vetting process and public meeting, she was -for what it was worth- sure to point out on Her website that the services she offers are non-sexual in compliance with the prostitution laws of the state we live in. "No happy endings in Her dungeon," as she put it. Somehow, through most of my life I've struggled and been mostly been unable to ask women out on dates but here I was E-Mailing a woman in order to take part in sexually-charged services. I guess in my mind any "rationalizing" of this was that buying/paying for something is different and nets a stronger likelihood of positive results than asking some acquaintance out for dinner. After a series of E-Mail exchanges we agreed on a meeting place at a local, nice, restaurant for lunch, we'd meet and have an open, frank, discussion -she assured me she wouldn't judge and I could be open with Her- and we could work out when to have an actual session. I was to arrive at the restaurant ahead of our scheduled meeting time, be respectfully dressed (no tennis shoes, hats, T-shirts, jeans, etc.) and get us a booth, leaving instructions with the hostess to escort Her to me at the table on arrival. As I sat there at the table my nerves ran wild, I was still unsure of what was going to happen or what could happen. It was still not too late, I could still back out of this okay. I had with me an envelope with the "consultation fee" in it, which included a non-refundable deposit on the session. But I was nervous. I wasn't certain or sure of myself on how the laws worked. Could I still be arrested for solicitation? I mean where do prostitution laws begin and end? What does it include? I kept glancing over my shoulder at the entryway for the restaurant looking for Her to enter, knowing what she would look like and how she would be dressed based on the pictures on Her website and E-Mail exchanges with Her. She was probably 15-20 minutes later than scheduled, but not a big deal for me, I saw Her enter and approach the hostess lectern and then she was lead to me. As she sat down in the booth opposite me I held my breath nerves were on edge. Didn't know what to feel or think. She was a beautiful woman probably my age or little older with bright red hair cut short, a little above Her shoulders. She looked at me, and said my name in question form. I confirmed it as well as confirming Her name, though not using the term "Mistress" for the sake of discretion should anyone in adjacent booths be able to hear our conversation. We got our, non-alcoholic, drinks and both the same "meal" (actually just a largish piece of carrot cake she spoke highly of) and we began our conversation. We spoke all over the map, about Her past and history, about mine, I told Her about my love-life, or lack thereof, and how I pegged it just being unable to ask women out. She smiled at me, looking up from the coffee cup she was drinking from, a stick of crystalized sugar in it she'd stir in the coffee to sweeten it, and "Yes you can." Obviously referring to how I was able to approach Her and ask Her out through Her website. A fair point on Her part but, still, different circumstances with Her than it would be with someone on the street I wanted to meet or date. But it was a nice encounter with Her where I told Her I'd not experienced any form of S&M/D&S activity before and was interested in exploring it, she smiled saying she enjoyed working with "virgins" to this stuff, I told Her my fantasies mostly centered around "feminization"/crossdressing and I was interested in exploring the masochism aspects, but was unsure of my pain levels though I suspected them to be quite high. Filled Her in on a minor seizure disorder I have that wouldn't be a problem in our interaction. (I don't go into convulsions or anything, usually I just become distant and a bit unaware for a couple seconds, but they don't occur often and shouldn't be a problem. She said she'd be in contact with me and we can proceed as I wish. It was later that night when, through E-Mail, we agreed on a time for our session and she gave me the next set of instructions, specifically what I needed to bring with me for the session. Saying it was impractical for Her to have on hand clothing to fit all possible sizes I'd need to bring my own, though she could provide wigs/makeup and the like. I'd need undergarments, a dress/skirt or whatever and shoes. She recommended I go for a lower heel if I intended to walk at all. She further said that depending on how "far" I wanted to go with the session and experience that I remove as much of my body hair as I was comfortable with and particularly if I wanted my genitals touched they should be trimmed. (Though there'd be no sexual interaction she said she still fondles/touches things but won't do it if there's too much hair there.) "You're asking yourself where you get all of these things, well the Goodwill you silly bitch!" So, first I spent a good bit of time at home trying to figure out my sizes in women's clothes, and struggled to make any kind of sense of it. Translating shoe size was easy, bust size was easy, but when it came to dress sizes and such I was at a complete loss as there seemed to be no consistency on what sizes translated to as far as inches. I don't have a woman's hips so how does that number fit into my search? I went to the Goodwill with my numbers and tried to find some things, but really couldn't find things I liked in my sizes and the stuff that was in my sizes I wasn't sure I'd calculated them correctly as the outfit didn't appear to be the right size (either too big or too small.) I wanted the "rush" of going to a store to buy these things, as she recommended for the extra thrill. I ended up just buying clothes on Amazon, I did more research on the sizes and was able to mostly figure out what would work for me and found a nice dress and shoes on Amazon. (Given my male size the female size shoes, in wide, I needed were going to be very hard to find.) I did go to a department super-store to buy undergarments and hosiery, using the self-checkout lane to purchase them; saving myself the embarrassment. It was a fairly cute dress, probably a midi-size on me, with a nice - mostly useless- belt on it. It seemed to fit me perfectly though I couldn't tell since I couldn't zip it all the way up on my own. (Seriously, why do they design dresses that way?) A bought a regular pair of slip-on stockings as they struck me as more "fun" than a set of pantyhose. I already had a mastectomy bra as I had my own set of fairly nice breast forms. I've never gone out, but I like the feeling of wearing them sometimes. The session was still a week or so away and I decided to go ahead and remove my body hair and maintain it between now and the session, reducing any "razor burns" on the day of the session and for any nicks with the razor to heel. I first went with a strong depilatory cream to remove my hair, it was one my Mistress recommended if it was the route I chose to go with, the cream was strong enough to do a good job removing hair but also gentle enough it could be used on sensitive areas like nipples and genitals. I said the hell with it and removed as much hair as I could from my neck down, leaving the hair on my forearms and on my back/anus/most of the perineum mostly from all of that being hard for me to easily reach. It'd been a long time since I've done this, I used to shave myself occasionally to more "enjoy" those times when I dressed but as it wasn't something I regularly or often did I hadn't done it in a while. When shaved I made sure to rub myself down nicely with some moisturizer, every other day from there after I'd go over myself with a razor to keep myself nicely hairless. Then the day came. My session was at 3 PM and was a 2-hour long one, I was nervous the whole day, a day off from work, and I could barely contain my excitement and nervousness. I still had that bug in the back of my brain that this could all go horribly wrong. I could still be walking into a trap that'd either see me in jail or at the very least robbed and my car stolen. But I sighed and set myself on doing this. If this was a "scam" of some sort it was an elaborate one considering the contact I had had with Her and the length of our communication. Twenty minutes or so before I left my place to go to Her "dungeon" (in an old church in some neighborhood, she said she enjoyed the blasphemy of using a church for these activities. From Google it seemed the place was listed another kind of business, likely to prevent Her neighbors from knowing what went on there, even if what she was doing was legal) I gave myself another good shave, giving myself a good, close shave, on my face, gathered up my clothing and other items in a reusable grocery sack and set off. Still very, very, nervous. I got into the area of the dungeon probably 15 minutes or so too early for arriving at a decent time without being *too* early so I drove around a bit more, circled back, and parked in the driveway of the "church." I didn't notice any other cars in the driveway or parked outside on the street. The instructions were for me to walk in the front door, put my payment in a box near the doorway inside the building's foyer, take my shoes off, and sit on a nearby bench and await to be greeted. I wasn't to call out to Her, she'd know I was there, nor was I to enter the "dungeon" (the church's sanctuary). Once I was inside I was "Hers" and needed to respect that. I walked up to the door of the building, pushed the latch and.... The door was locked. What was going on?! I didn't know what to think but I didn't do anything further and just waited there on the porch. The church was pretty much a repurposed house at the end of a regular neighborhood street. From the outside it looked like any other house, but it did have the "flair" of the type of place it was if you knew you were looking at such a place. The "Victorian" era-looking patio furniture, the colors of paint used on the front of the house, etc. It was a couple minutes I stood there when another vehicle turned the corner and parked in front of the building, through the windows I could see it was Her. She greeted me with a warm, friendly, "Hello, Mark!" and went to the door to unlock it. She said She was running late as She had a lunch meeting and tried texting me to let me know She was running late. I didn't get the text so either She dialed my number wrong or some hiccup in the phone network. Looking at her it was still striking to me how attractive she was and how she was dressed, and her starkly red hair. She had on a nice thigh- high skirt, dark-colored tights/hosiery and pretty blouse. We entered the entryway to the church, She locked the door behind us and said She'll be ready for me in a few minutes, She entered the Sanctuary of the old church, blocked by curtains between it and the entry foyer. I took out the envelope with her payment in it and placed it in a nearby box, sat down, took off my shoes and waited. I could hear her movements in the neighboring room as her heels clicked on the solid floors of the room, rummaging, and music playing for a radio she had turned on. In a curio cabinet by the pew in the waiting room there were various interesting look old-tyme sex-related devices. Including what was probably an 80-year-old or so vibrator. I don't know how long I waited in the entryway, but my heart was pounding I was still very nervous. Still wasn't sure what to feel, to think, or to expect. This could all go very wrong. I looked at my shopping bag and nervously grasped the handle to it. I then heard Her heels clicking again, this time drawing closer, She walked through the curtain and stood their looking down at me. She'd not changed Her clothes much beyond putting on a corset- looking outer-garment, She looked tall and imposing to me. She put Her hands on Her hips arched an eyebrow and said, "Ready?" I quietly, shyly, said "Yes." With a nervous nod. I rose up and followed Her through the curtain into the sanctuary. Naturally all of the pews had been removed and series of ornate couches were lining the one side of the room, on the other were various BDSM- related toys and other devices, a cage, a St. Andrew's cross, a rack with various whips and chains on it. I gulped. The far corner of the room had been converted into a kitchenette, and the front of the room was the dais the center of which was a large, regal-looking, chair with a kneeler at the foot of it. She took the bag from me, "Is this for us to play with?" "Yes." "Good. What I want you to do is go into the bathroom over there (in the other corner of the room), get undressed and then come out here to me. I want you to kneel there and wait whether I'm there or not. Do you understand?" She talked to me in a commanding tone, sort of the way a mother would give directions to a child. "Yes Mistress." She smiled and looked at me, "Good, boy." I went into the bathroom and began taking my clothes off, my hands still shaking with nervousness. Now I'm not greatly comfortable with my body. I know I'm not overly attractive and certainly not fit and I know I have undersized-looking genitals and manhood. I had a hard to revealing myself to my first girlfriend when we had sex and here I am about to walk out to an almost complete stranger. But, somehow, I trusted in Her that She would be professional towards me and that She wouldn't judge. I folded up my clothes, opened the bathroom door, walked out and placed them on a nearby bench. She was on Her chair looking solidly forward with only a slight glance my way as I stepped out. I cautious walked over to Her and got on the kneeler at her feet, I looked up to her a bit and she let out a slight smile. "Show me what you brought." Nearby was my bag so I took the items out of it, showing Her the clothing I had bought, a fairly nice dress, the pantyhose, panties, shoes and my bra and breastforms. "Are those your tits?" She asked. "Yes, Mistress." "Let me see them." I opened the box and brought them out and showed them to Her, She smiled. The forms were fairly decently sized. Probably undersized for what would realistically be "my size" but the things still were pretty big with a good bit of heft to them. With the items shown and set aside I looked up to Her, sternly She said, "Look down." I did so. "Remember that now you are mine. And you will obey me. Understand?" "Yes, Mistress." She stood-up took my hand and led me over to the area where most of the toys and such were, I looked up to watch where we were going and She turned back to me, "Don't look up. You do not look at me unless I give you permission. Understand?" "Yes, Mistress." Like an ashamed child I put my head down and let Her lead me over to a "central" or focal area in the "play section" it was the back corner of the room, red currents lined the walls, concealing what I would later find out were a variety of whips, chains, restraints and such. She positioned me in a central position in this area turned me to face more towards the center of the room and told but my hands out in front of me. I did so. She walked off and soon came back with a pair of hand cuffs, but not the kind used by police these had "grasping handles" on them and weren't connected to each other, my hands in the cuffs She walked over and pressed a switch on the wall, a loud mechanical noise filled the room mostly coming from above and behind me, I glanced up slightly to see a bar being lowered from the ceiling, in my looking I caught Her eyes. She put on a stern face and slapped me. Not too hard, but a slap none the less. She grasped my cheeks with Her hand and said, "What did I tell you?!" "Sorry, Mistress." The bar being in the position She wanted, She raised my hands and restrained them to the bar using a chains on each cuff to affix them. She then raised the bar so that my arms were over my head and I was more-or-less forced in a standing position. Not on my toes but not entirely flat-footed either. "Are you going to the doctor or anything like that anytime soon?" she asked. "No..." I answered unsure what the question was leading to. "Good." She opened what I believe was a tube of lipstick but given her question likely was some-kind-of water-proof/resistant lipstick and She drew hears around my nipples and on the bare patch of skin between my belly button and genitals. She then walked off, came back, and put a pink collar on me. I continued to avoid eye contact with Her. "This is another reminder you are mine. Now I want to inspect you. Understand?" Almost instinctively as part of human reaction and looked at her and said, "Yes, Mistress..." then I caught myself. She had given me another stern look, another slap (this one slightly harder) and she walked off. "Since you seem to have a problem with this, I'm going to have to take care of this problem." She had gotten the stockings out of my bag, brought them over and blindfolded me with them. "Now I want to inspect you." "Yes, Mistress." She walked around me, I felt Her touching parts of my body, running Her hands along it, occasionally asking me questions about things you saw. I have some benign cysts in my thighs that bulge out, looking slightly like very large tumors, but are just weird, hard globs of tissue. She asked me about them, I explained them. She asked me a little bit about my genitals, and I explained I had undescended testicles as a child and had them surgically lowered but they were still a little mispositioned. She noted how well shaved I was, my chest, underarms, legs, genitals. "Very well done." "Thank you, Mistress. I did the best I could with the depilatory cream and regular shaving. I wasn't able to get much of my back or behind, though. Sorry." "It's okay. You've done much better than most of my other boys do." She complemented my nipples and said how big and erect they were, she moved away and soon came back, I could hear the light clinking of something metallic, asked me about my pain tolerance and I responded that I thought it was pretty high depending on various things. Through gaps in my makeshift blindfold I could see down to my chest and watched as she put some nipple clamps on me. I was prepared for experiencing pain and in some ways expected it. But this pain was a bit too sharp for me. I felt I could handle slaps, spankings, and even some sharp pain but this pain was to persistent. To constant. I don't know if that's the way it's supposed to be or if I just have overly sensitive nipples. It was a couple minutes of this as She inspected me more, slapping parts of my body, when She asked, "How do you feel?" I must have looked pale and had a flop sweat or something as I could even sense it within myself, I felt myself feeling faint. "Mistress... I think the nipple things are more than I can handle." (At the time I honestly wasn't sure if they were clamps or some-kind-of piercing (though that wouldn't make any sense given no alcohol or anything was applied before piercing them.) "Okay," she said and she started to remove them, once removed she moved away and I heard/felt the bar being lowered, She took my hands out of the cuffs, led me a few feet forward and told me to get on my knees. I did so. She removed the blindfold and directed my face to look at Her. She smiled lightly, She aided me and showed me to get into a bowing/yoga-like pose and coached me into an eased breathing, knelt, breathing softly and trying to calm my nerves She told me to wait there and walked off, going into the kitchen, soon coming back with a bottle of water and a single-serving bottle of Sunny-D, She offered them to me. I took the Sunny-D, opened the bottle and began drinking it. She set the water nearby. "Kneel back down and relax." I did so. I could feel my nerves coming back to me, focusing. She bought over a nearby desk chair, sat down on it and then rested Her feet on me, using me as an ottoman. "Have you ever heard of human furniture?" "Yeah, I've read something about it." "It can be very interesting. When I have my parties, I think it's fun to have pieces of human furniture around acting as tables and seats and stuff. Sometimes the people around you can even forget you're there an regard you as such. Do you think that would be fun?" "Yes, Mistress." "How are you feeling?" "Better, Mistress, thank you." She leaned forward a bit stroking me, as if petting a dog. "I have to take care of my things." She leaned back on the chair and put Her feet in front of me, "Can you take off my shoes, please?" They were high heeled, ankle-high cute little shoes. I struggled to undo the clasps to unbuckle them, my hands being a bit too big to use the small clasps and my nerves still giving me something of a tremor. But I managed to get them off. A looked at her stocking-clad feet. "I want a foot massage." I gladly began giving her foot message, as best as I could as I wasn't sure exactly "how" to message them exactly. I was still a bit nervous in my "role" in all of this. I messaged Her for a few minutes when she said, "That's enough. Kiss them for me and we can move on." She left again and came back with a bottle of finger-nail polish and She showed me how to paint nails, using Her own pinkie as an example. It was my job to paint the rest of Her nails as best as I could. I did my best. When done She told me I had done a good job and earned my reward. To get dressed. She brought over the rest of my women's clothing and helped me to get dressed, to put on the bra, and after I put my forms in the pockets She adjusted the bra to fit me properly. She looked at me, "you do have nice tits." Since the incident with my near-fainting she had caught me catching her eyes a couple times and though gave me a stern look it seemed we'd moved on from that "rule." She lent me a garter for my stockings (even though they had the lining in them that kept them up) and zipped up my dress. She looked me up and down and said, "You look pretty good." She then tried to coach me in how to walk properly in my high-heeled shoes. I did the best I could for Her and She said, "Well, you'll get the hang of it." She sat me down on a stool, opened up a makeup kit and began applying makeup to me. As we did this we began talking about things, mostly random things but mostly talking as if we were girlfriends. She asked me stuff about my childhood and younger years, what made me want to explore this kind of experience and things of that nature. I relaxed a bit as I talked to her, opening up. Probably truly opening up with a woman for the first time in my life. She applied a good deal of foundation on me, blush, eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, lip stick and even a bit of concealer for my eyebrows. When She was done She gave a brownish-blonde wig and helped me up. I looked in the mirror and... Well, I looked like a guy in a dress. I mean, the clothing looked good, the make-up looked very good, the wig looked natural, but there's just too many masculine features to my face, I feel, to be ignored. (Namely my largish nose.) She complimented me on how good I looked and I played along with her. I mean, I guess I looked as good as I possibly could under the circumstances of my face and body size. I did like the way my legs looked in the hose, though. Earlier we had been talking about hair and I had told Her how much I liked red-heads and how I loved her own red-hair. As we looked in the mirror She looked like she was struck with an idea and she ran off, going to a staircase in the back of the room to an upper room, soon coming back with a redish-hair colored wig. "This is one of my personal ones, not one I use in my sessions but for you I'll make an exception." She put the wig on me, which was a little tight for me, but with it on I still looked fairly decent. "Can I take some pictures of you?" My rationality wasn't all there, so I allowed it. Not knowing what I was thinking at the time, later realizing how compromising of a position that was to put myself in. She took several pictures of me in various positions around the room, on one of the Victorian-looking couches and in various positions. Sitting, laying down, etc. In one of my sitting pictures she pulled the hem of my dress back a bit to expose the top of my stockings. She continued to try and coach me in how to walk, how to sit and even how to talk. Talking to me at times as if we were girlfriends saying, "We should go shopping sometime to get you more clothes and your own wig. I know some places we can go where you wouldn't have to worry about anyone caring what you're doing it. You won't have to pay me either!" She looked at me slyly, "Would you dress for me if we go shopping?" "I'm not sure I would be comfortable doing that, Mistress." She gave me a playful pout. During this at one time she had me layout on an ottoman, "Normally I whip bad boys here but you've been good, so I won't do that now." Laying there she ran Her hands over my back, across my butt and through the crack, grazing my genitals and slightly grasping them. She stood back a bit saying how "feminine" the visual was, other than the hair still on my ass which ruined the visual a bit. After a while of talking, practicing walking and picture taking, She instructed me back to the bathroom to change back into my men's clothes, "Unless I can convince you to go home dressed like this," She said to me with a wink. "Sorry, Mistress. I don't think I'm comfortable doing that." A playful pout. She led me to the bathroom and she got out some cold-cream and other make-up removing things, told me to get cleaned up and changed and to come back out when ready. I did so. Make-up removed, back in my men's clothes, and my stuff packed back up I went back out into the sanctuary and looked at Her. She smiled as I walked back over to her. She took me by the hands and said, "Now, I want you to take the next couple of days, think this over and let them settle with you. I'll be in contact with you and what you to tell me what you thought of your session, how you're feeling, and what you think we could do in a future session if you decide to have one." I thanked Her and told Her I would get back in touch with Her via E- Mail. She led me out of the sanctuary and back into the foyer area. She gave me a genuinely warm hug, unlocked the door and led me out. (But making sure she stood out of the open doorway incase the neighbors were to catch her in her dominatrix outfit. It was an interesting experience and though I've had a girlfriend I was sexually active with many years ago, it was probably the closest thing to intimacy I think I've had with a woman. A genuine connection. Maybe I'm messed-up thinking but I don't feel I need sexual activity to be "intimate" with someone. But just being open and sharing. I put myself out there, exposed myself and my vulnerabilities. I put out a lot more risk than I think I ever could do. I mean, when I was chained to the bar and partially suspended what was there to stop her from running into the foyer, grabbing the keys out of the heel of my shoes and going out to my car and driving off?! What's to stop her from putting the pictures of me up on social media or something? But, somehow, I got through my anxieties and trusted her. And in it all opened myself up some. We had some nice correspondence when she got back in touch with me a few days later, sending me the pictures she took, which I put in a password- protected file on my computer. It was a very fun and interesting experience. One I took part in again just a few weeks before writing this. Where again, I shared with her emotionally and opened up. Impressing her as I had been practicing walking "femininely" some and in putting together a nice outfit and buying a low high-heeled boot. In the correspondence before that session I had been saying how much I was struggling with matching clothes and figuring out my sizes, she took her dominatrix role and told me no excuses and gave me resources to use to find my sizes. Part of the second session also involved me buying some hip shapers to give me a more feminine figure, she told me sometime we may have to use a corset on me. The second session was just as much an experience as the first. Not as much of the physical stuff, some spanking, but nothing much to do with pain and a quicker dressing time. And also another point where I allowed myself to be put in an overly compromising position, she put a sensory deprivation mask on me, locked me in a smallish cage and suspended it for a few minutes. Oddly inside of it, dangling, with what sounded/felt like her putting spin on the cage I wasn't that anxious or freaked out. She took another bunch of pictures of me, we talked and shared some, and she again said we needed to go shopping together. She tried to get me to paint my toe-nails but I wasn't comfortable doing that. Again, quite the experience and shocking to myself in doing it and learning stuff about myself. I only wish I could find myself in a relationship with someone in this capacity. To be able to share with someone these things and have me be hers. Because I quite enjoy it.