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Secrets and Lies By Cassandra Morgan (To readers: I found this old file in my computer that I wrote (with feedback from Vickie Tern) a while ago. It's rough, but I thought there was something there. Forgive me my flaws. Cassi.) He felt, pretty much, like a Christmas tree. He ought to be able to communicate with the planet Zefron. Elijah Dawson, E.J., was lying on a small cot in the psych department, and all sorts of wires were running out of him. There were electrodes attached to various points of his body, like he was Frankenstein's monster. He was strapped in, so he didn't pull any of the cords out. He had on headphones that played odd music. In a chair by the bedside, there was a brown-haired woman holding charts and frowning. Did the Hulk really start this way? He had no idea how he got here. There was a note tacked up in the dorm that you could make $50 bucks for an afternoon of work, and like most students, he could use the cash. It beat selling blood. He was told to bring a t-shirt and wear a pair of gym shorts and report to the psychology building. A pretty young woman whose name tag said Mindy Ginsberg - a senior? - was chasing his his particular case. She had him go into the next room and come out wearing nothing but the shorts. And, without a lot of explanation, she started affixing the electrodes. To his temples. To his chest. To his wrists. To his forearms. To his legs. Even to his feet. "Now, relax, Mr....Dawson," she said, looking at her charts. "Are you aware of why you're here?" "Um, not really," he said. She smiled. "Someone should have told you. Okay. We're just doing a bit of research. Non-invasive, completely." Well, duh. Since he had been here, he had had to punch numbers, and he had to rank photos by how masculine or feminine the subjects were (For instance, a linebacker, a firefighter, a soldier and a figure skater). He had to respond to blinking lights. He had to give a blood test. He had the ink-blot test. Someone was going to a lot of trouble to learn that he was a typical college student. "Now," Mindy said, "in this test, do you know the old word-association game?" He nodded. His head felt restricted by the wires . "Well, it's kind of like that. Except it's all electronic. Audible stimuli. No, it's not magic, and we don't control your brain, and we don't make you cluck like a chicken." She laughed. "We just measure your responses to a few words, and we score your reaction. Nothing to it. You'll be out of here with your money in short order. Easiest money you've ever made." She laid him down. She put headphones into his hands and covered his eyes with small pads. "Just sensory deprivation," she said. "You'll be fine. What are you? A freshman?" "Uh, a junior." "Oh, you're kind of small. But that's okay. Small guys are cute." She laughed. He smiled. "You can put on the earphones now." He lay back. She spoke into a small microphone. "Okay, can you hear me over the background music?" He nodded that he could. "Good. Now, we have a few benign control words to adjust the equipment. Just think about the word. You don't have to do anything else. It's kind of like a polygraph. It works on brain impulses. Nothing mysterious at all." "Okay," he said. "First word: Pudding." "Okay. Second word: Television." "Okay. Third word. Canteen." "Fourth word. Lesbian." She laughed. "Okay, that one registered an eight. You guys love lesbians, don't you? You could care less about pudding or television, but mention a lesbian, and your blood boils." He blushed. "I'm sorry, I ..." "Oh, hell, Mr. Dawson. There's nothing to apologize for. We're just trying to measure your reaction to stimuli. The test expects strong reactions. Shoot, eight is actually a mild response to lesbians. "Okay, you ready for round two?" "First word: Gorilla." "Second word: Grenade." "Third word: Tennis." "Fourth word: Masturbation." Okay, he had it now. The fourth word was going to be the one they expected a strong reaction from. Cool. For $50, he'd let this attractive woman talk dirty to him. "Mr. Dawson...can I call you Elijah? I hate saying Mister." "Sure," he said. "A lot of my friends call me E.J." "Well, E.J. That reaction wasn't as strong. A four. Are you ready to proceed? Fair warning: The words may get racier." "Shoot." "First word: Firefighter." "Second word: Neptune." "Third word: Elephant." "Fourth word: Bondage." She paused again. He assumed it was to write things down on her form. "How'd I do?" he asked. "Do? This isn't a test, E.J. Not one gives you grade. You had a mild reaction to handcuffs. I assume that means that you aren't particularly excited by bondage. A shame. I had my handcuffs out for later." He peeled a pad off his right eye and looked. She grinned. "I'm kidding, E.J. Just trying to make you laugh. Now lay back down." He did. He put the blinders on again. "Here we go," she said. "First word: Railroad." "Second word: Swamp." "Third word: Leather." "Fourth word: Spanking." He heard her pen scribbling. "What?" he said. "Oh, E.J. I'm not supposed to give you your results. I don't guess it will hurt much, though. You registered an eight on spankings. Pretty interesting. You like spankings?" she laughed.' And so it went. There was no rhythm to words she picked. The fourth one always seemed to be the juicy word, though. "Banana." "Crocodile." "Mountain." "Diaper." And then it was: "Saucer." "Hubcap." "Telephone." "Dildo." Followed by: "Horse." "Oxygen." "Lipstick." "Panties." Then: "Thermos." "Purse." "Meadow." "Fellatio." "Excuse me?" he said after that last one. "We're all adults, E.J. We've heard the term. I told you some of the descriptions got racy." "Just kind of shocked me to get that. I mean, to get that word.'' "Are you ready?" He lay back down. Covered his eyes up again. Adjusted his headphones. "Coral." "Balloon." "Hairspray." "Nipples." And then: "Grass." "Ocean." "Sandpaper." "Buttplug." He snicked at that one. She did, too. Think about it. It's a silly word. "Cup." "Electricity." "Implants." "Sissy." And then: "Baby." "Secrets." "Brassiere." "Submission." Followed by: "Sandwich." "Sofa." "Lies." "Cocksucking." "Really?" he said. "What kind of research is this?" "It's okay, E.J. We're just talking here. They're just words and responses. Now lie back and let's finish, okay?" He shook his head. He lay back. "Splinter." "Perfume." "Baseball." "Transvestite." And then: "Guitar." "Bookshelf." "Mascara." "Domination." Followed by: "Penguin." "Estrogen." "Taffeta." "Penis." She kept scribbling. "Are we almost done?" he asked. "Almost. You got a hot date?" "No, I'm just tired of having all these wires come out of me." "Well, when we're done, we have some formulations to do. But I'd buy you a beer about 6 if you want?" "That...that would be great." "E.J.? You don't have a girlfriend do you? Or a boyfriend?" "No. Gosh no." She nodded. "Okay, a few more." "Cowboy." "Girdle." "Laundry." "Rectum." And then: "Threesome." "Ice cream." "Handcuffs." "Homosexual." Followed by: "Death." "Orgasm." "Perm." "Sperm." :One last one," she said over her clipboard. "Erection." "Cancer." "Whip." "Mistress." E.J. was amused. For a while, he was hitting the fourth iten on every list. Then he started to pick the second raciest phrase, just to mix it up. Why not have fun? "Well, that's it, E.J. We're all done. We may ask you back for some more advanced testing, which pays a little bit more. This wasn't so hard, was it?" "It was weird. Was this for sex-ed or something?" "Actually, the test results will be used by a lot of instructors once the results are tabulated. We tabulate everything and cross-reference." "So I don't get to know how I did?" "You did fine, E.J. I told you: there are no grades. You just registered higher on some words than others. The shrinks will look at the tests you and the answers the strongest reactions to, and they'll decide whether you're a mass murderer or a Trekkie. Or both." She laughed again, and it was musical. He looked her over. Brown hair. Glasses. Good teeth. She was a tall girl, taller than him, but pretty. "Can I change?" he asked, as the assistants pulled the electrodes off of him. He had brought jeans just in case. "Of course you can," she said. "You still up for a beer?" "That would be delish," he said. "Delisth" She laughed. "Who says 'delish? Anyway, Barnaby's. Six. I promise. I'll speak more than one word at a time." He grinned. "And I'll put on my shirt." * * * Nothing much happened immediately after Elijah left. Mindy gave his responses, as other volunteer assistants had with their clients, to Dr. Jack Hardesty, who promptly put them in a corner of his desk and read the newspaper. It was only an hour or so later that he started looking through the test results. When he got to Elijah's, he started to read lightly, then got more intense, and then started to make notes. "Mindy?" he said. "Who is Elijah Dawkins?" "Elijah? Oh, you mean E.J. He was just a guy who took the test this morning." "Is he gone?" "I"m sure he is, Dr. Hardesty. He finished the test a while ago and got his money." Hardesty looked at the forms again. He shook his head. "I think we may have found one for our sex test," he said. "I'm sorry?" Dr. Hardesty look at Mindy. "We may have found our sissy." The truth be told, the psych department wasn't up-front about this test. Oh, it worked okay, there really were things to be learned from the electrodes. But the way it was set up was an elaborate ruse to find those with varied sexualities. If you were gay, or lesbian, or into bondage or role play or pet play, the psych department want to know who you were. Maybe to use to interview further, who knows? But diversity was good for the shrinks to know about, as they called themselves. If you were doing a paper on, say, pony-play, didn't it help to know who the ponies were? If you wanted to do an article on bondage, shouldn't you know that? Oh, most of the tests showed nothing, and they were filed away in what were called vanilla folders (a pun on the old "manila" folders). What good did it do a psychologist to know there was a guy who slept with his girlfriend. That wasn't unusual ... yet. Give it a couple of years. But according to Hardesty, Elijah had registered a 10 on "sissy and submission." He had a 9 on "Domination" and "Mistress" and "cocksucking." He recorded an 8 on "spanking" and "fellatio" and "buttplug." He got a 7 on "dildo" and "transvestite" and "penis." Even more surprising were the secondary indicators. He scored 6's and 7's on "perfume" and "panties" and "hairspray" and "brassiere" and "mascara" and "erection." Such a strong reaction to the buzz words was fairly convincing. "Mindy, either we have found a raging sissy, or we have found the person who is the most susceptible in nine states. I'm surprised he wasn't wearing a dress to the test." "But doctor. Does it prove anything, really? Isn't it kind of like the Rorschach Test? Isn't it all speculative." "I'd speculate our Mr. Dawson has a Master who is butt-fu...who is having anal sex with him right now." "Um, he kind of suggested to me that he wasn't gay, Doctor." "He did? Well, a Mistress, then. What's the difference? Let's get Mr. Dawson back in here. There should a follow-up." "Yes, sir," Mindy said. "Um, I'm supposed to have a beer with him later. Is that ok? Should I cancel?" Hardesty looked at her. He grinned. "That's perfect," he said. "And get dinner. After all, a Mistress has to eat." She blushed. But she didn't argue. * * * His plan was simple. Mindy would use him as the subject of her next term paper. She was going to control her very own sissy. Hell, Hardesty thought. He might write a paper himself. He felt good about this. A live sissy to poke and prod. A mincing, simpering subject. A blossoming Mistress under his control. And him, the puppet master. Running it all, master of the universe, king of kings. This was better than something as silly as doing it for sex. This was ... power. He called Mindy in. A pretty girl, he thought. Not hard enough to be a real domme, though. Of course, he wouldn't tell her that. He planned on shaping her, on guiding her, on using her. The sissy was hers, but she was his. "Mindy, this is going to be a fascinating study," he said. "It's going to involve self-revelation, because you are being asked to be a Mistress. And it will be project oriented, because E.J. will become your sissy. Do you think you are up to this job." She bit her lip. "Yes, sir," she said. "But E.J. is so small. So frail. Isn't this...manipulation? Is this fair to E.J.?" "Mindy, it's great that you care. But this project will give E.J. the validation that he...she needs. She'll be free to be a sissy. Remember, there is power from down under in a sexual dynamic. A great many sissies actually run their relationship. They get what they need out of who they are. We're doing her a favor." "So ... E.J. will be in control of what she wants?" "Absolutely. There is a quid pro quo there that works. The sissy gets to be the sissy. The Mistress gets to be the Mistress. They'd be miserable if they had each other's roles. But it's a co-dependency that makes this work." "What about sex?" "Mindy. This is so sudden." He grinned. She did not. "Sorry, a trifle of humor there. Sex is up to the Mistress in a relationship, what kind and how often. As an educator, I cannot recommend that you have sex with a subject. But this is a sexual dynamic, Mindy. If she submits to you, she will expect sex. And you may want it too. A great many Mistresses, and Masters for that matter, enjoy domination in the bedroom. "But, sir. I've never been a Mistress. I'll make a thousand mistakes." He smiled. "Of course you will. But use that. Tell E.J. that you are new and learning. A sissy is a trusting creature, Mindy. If you communicate with her, then she'll run through walls for you. If you forget to, oh, put in her butt plug, well, blame it on your inexperience. It'll be okay." Mindy thought a minute. Should she do this? And if she didn't, she knew Dr. Hardesty would just get someone else. If she wanted to help E.J., and if she could do it while helping Dr. Hardesty - and herself - then she should do it. "Okay, Doctor," she said. "I'm your Mistress. I'll take care of E.J. I'll write your paper." Hardesty smiled. "And you'll get breakfast in bed." He gave her a textbook with a section on domination. He referred her to online sites that carried a great deal of sissy fiction - she wondered how he knew about them. He gave her a Visa card for expenses. This was perfect, he thought. A sissy had fallen into his hands, and he - she - evidently had a thing for his lab assistant. So all he had to do was to control Mindy as she controlled E.J. She was pretty enough. A mincing little thing like her wouldn't be able to resist. He smiled. Lord, he loved dominating the dominators. * * * She slid into a booth in O'Reilly's and smiled a bemused smile at him. They ordered a pitcher. He wasn't even sure you would call it a date. But for him, it was about as close as he came. Beer and a pretty girl? What could be better? "So how did I do?" She grinned. "Mass murderer." "They found the bones?" he said. "Damn." "Actually, the guy in charge, Dr. Hardesty, found your tests quite interesting. I think they're going to contact you to get you back for a follow`up." "Cool. You'll get to talk dirty some more." "I'll practice." She looked at him strangely, her head cocked to the side, studying his face. It was the way an art lover looked at a Picasso, as if to look behind the lines.. "What is it, Mindy. Spinach on my teeth?" "No. I just like to look at people and imagine what they would look like ... different. You know, if they had blond hair or a mustache. Or lipstick." He laughed. "Well, what shade?" "Oh, you're a cherry-red girl, E.J. Slut!" She laughed, and he joined in. He liked her. She was a grad student, her bachelor's in psychology already complete. That's what she was doing in giving the test. She was an intern from Cleveland. She loved the Browns, which would take some forgiveness from him. She and a boyfriend had broken up three months ago, he learned. She had nice eyes. "E.J.? Do you know what this test really does?" He looked at her. "It pays $50," he giggled. "It's a personality test. By judging how you feel about certain words, it judges how you feel about life. About sex. About the roles we all play." He looked around the room. "And?" She hesitated for a moment, pondering how much to tell him. It seemed fast to her. But wasn't it best to be honest? "E.J., I don't know how to say this, but it says you're what is called a sissy." "A sissy? Me?" He laughed. She nodded. "A sissy in the sexual definition. A submissive. You had some transvestite leanings, too. Does that surprise you?" The old images of colors and cloth came to the surface. His sister's white dress. Her panties. Her lipstick. His mother had caught him four times. She really thought he wanted to be a girl. He just thought Rebecca's stuff was pretty. It felt nice. A sissy, though? He wanted to stand up and shout his denials. But you know, in the back of his mind,, something clicked. There is a children's book where a horse goes to a duck and a chicken and a pig and cow and asks if he is like them. And they all say, "no, you're a horse." This was kind of like that for me. Everything fit. His own mother thought he was gay. For a while, he did too. He would fix her hair and do her makeup. For a while, he wondered if he was was a transvestite. But that wasn't quite right, either. But a sissy? That made sense. He thought of the color pink. He thought of those dresses the Disney Princesses work. He felt his penis stir. Still, has any of us ever accepted it at first suggestion? You fight the label. You resist the category. "Are you sure about this test?" he asked. "It doesn't sound scientific to me. I'm not a football player, but I'm not a sissy.'' "Oh, you're a scientist now?" "No. I'm just not... a sissy? Right?" "E.J. You were the highest-grading sissy we've ever had. Dr. Hardesty said it was amazing you weren't wearing a dress. It's okay, E.J. Really, I find it fascinating. Have you ever ... submitted to a man? A woman?" "Mindy, I swear. I never have." "Ever want to?" "No," he said, too loudly and too quickly. "Ever worn panties?" He nodded. "In high school," he said quietly. "Ever have a boyfriend?" "No. Not ever. I mean, I had a friend. Sammy. I liked hanging with him. But we never did anything. I'm straight." "When you were dressed, did you think about doing what we call women's work? Cooking, cleaning. Making your man feel good?" "I thought about it. But not with a man." Mindy nodded. "Tell me about you as a kid." "Well, there isn't much to tell, really. I was a runt. So I stayed at home a lot. Read. Watched movies. I took ballet. I sang." She smiled. "And did your mother know that you dressed up?" "She caught me a few times. She knew." "But you never had a boyfriend? E.J. , dicks are fun. I love them. Are you sure you never..." "I'm sure," he said. "How about you? A lot of lovers?" She shrugged. "What's a lot? Is five a lot? I'm in my fifth year of college. That's easy to average out. Of course, one of them was in high school. And only four were guys." "Really?" "Yeah. Helen. We were together for a while." "What happened? Did she seduce you?" She stared at him for a minute. "I seduced her, E.J. We were friends, and one night, I decided I wanted to be more than friends. We were at a party, and we left together, and...boom!" He laughed. She was easy to talk to. She didn't seem judgmental. Good thing, the way his head was swimming. "E.J.? Dr. Hardesty wants another session with you. But first, would you like to come to my apartment?" "Boom?" he said. "No, not like that. Just to talk some more." He looked around the bar. He bit his lip. "Okay," he whispered. They left. And his innocence left along with him. * * * The walked into her apartment, and Mindy clicked on the lights. She tossed her purse onto an end table. "Welcome," she said. "Want a drink? I have beer? I think I have wine." "Just water. Can I get some water?" He was nervous. Even before she told him, he didn't figure Mindy was taking him back to her place to seduce him. That happened in movies to leading men. Not with a woman who has just told you what a sissy you are." Mindy brought him out a bottle of water. "It isn't cold, I'm afraid," she said. "Please, sit." They sat. "You look nervous, E.J." she said. "Relax. We're just here to talk." "I'm okay. Really, I am. I just...don't know where this is going." She smiled. She shrugged. "I've never known a sissy before. Does it embarrass you that I call you a sissy?" "Um, I guess it should. But I'm okay. I mean, I told you I wore my sisters clothes. Technically, that alone would make me a sissy, wouldn't it?:'' "No, that would make you a cross-dresser. The sissy part happens when I ask you to braid my hair." "Ha. You're kidding, right?" "Well, I was. But I'd love for you to braid my hair. Will you put it on? Pretty please?" So he went behind her. He had never done a braid, but on occasion he had styled his mother's hair. So he had a general sense of it. He took a brush and sectioned off her hair. He started to interweave it. It was good hair, thick and flowing. He concentrated on the task, overlaying this section, then that one. It wasn't that much more difficult than brushing out his mom's hair. Did this make him a sissy? Just because he would help a girl with her hair? What is it that makes us think there is something wrong with men who dress hair? They aren't all gay. He looked at her. "It could be a little lighter if you color it," he said. "But then you might want to change your makeup." She smiled at me. "You are, aren't you? A sissy?" "I...I don't know what to say." "I think it's sweet. Come here." She took out a tube of lip gloss. She made him hold still, and she lovingly applied it. She played with his hair. She painted his nails. When she was done, she got up and went into her bedroom. She came out holding a long, thin candle. "Now we play," she said. She sat in front of him. She put the blunt end of the candle against his lips. "Kiss it," she said. "Make believe it's your boyfriend." He looked at her, the candle still against his lips. He blushed. He softly kissed it. "Now take it in your mouth." He took a bit of it. Then a bit more. Then about half of the candle. He slid it back and forth in his mouth as she watched intently. "Now look," she said, pulling it out. "No tooth marks. You're a natural, baby. You'll make a man a fine wife." "I'm ... not ready for that." She leaned in then and kissed him lightly, their lip gloss mingling. She leaned on him until he lay backward with her on top. "I'd like to have sex with you," she whispered. "But I don't have a dildo." He laughed. "I have a penis," he said. "That little thing? Does it even work?" She laughed to let him know she was kidding, and he laughed along. She reached down and took his hand. She led him to her bedroom. "Now, you seem to have plenty of tongue. Mama likes that...." she said. She fucked him. "Elijah couldn't say we say we had sex," she was thinking, "because that sounds as if it was reciprocal." Instead, she was all over him. She fingered his ass. She sucked his flat nipples. She had him lick her vagina. She seemed to find it erotic to be with a sissy. She wrapped a pair of her panties around his penis and masturbated him. She must have used the word "sissy" 100 times. Was he really a sissy? He guessed he always had been. Hell, science said so. Who was he to argue with the guys in the lab coats? He woke up early the next morning. He took a shower, using her scented shampoo, and stepped out. He brushed his teeth. He went to put his boxers back on. "No!" Mindy said, grinning as she watched. "Wear clean clothes. Here." She handed him a pair of panties. He looked at her, started to protest, then slid them on. Hell, he had worn panties before. No need to play hard to get. It was a wonderful sensation after all of these years, like an old friend visiting his genitals. The panties were sheer, and he could see the outline of his penis when he looked. They were soft, smooth. He thought that was hot, frankly. She handed him a bra. "Mindy, I don't have breasts," he said. "Still, you need to get used to the feeling of straps again. We'll buy you some boobs...for now. But a bra changes everything for a sissy, I imagine. Now, go. Put this on." So he did, reveling in the comfort of the garment. Oh, the arm straps were a pain in the ass if you didn't adjust them right. But it made him feel complete. He touched the empty cups and felt a longing to have substance there. Mindy smiled. "We'll buy you some titties," she said. "I know you want some. You have since you were younger, haven't you?" He nodded, blushed. He turned to the side to admire his figure. He liked what he saw. This was happening too fast, he thought. He should have made it go slower, at least acted as if he needed to be pushed into this. It was as if his nature had lay dormant for years, and now it was erupting. Then Mindy reached out, holding a pale blue dress. "Um, Mindy, I can just put my jeans back on. Everyone wears jeans more than once." "E.J., do what I'm telling you to do. A good sissy listens to...her mistress." He looked at her, grasping at what she had said. They had had sex. But was she prepared to claim ownership? Was she ready to lead their relationship? "Are you my ... Mistress? For real?" She smiled softly. "Well, I guess I am. You're wearing my panties. That makes you my sissy. Now put the damn dress on and make me coffee, bitch." She giggled as she gave the orders, including her use of the pejorative. He went into the kitchen and started the coffee. He was looking in the fridge for something to make her to eat when he felt her arms around him. He leaned back into her as she kissed his neck. "This happened so fast, Mindy," he said. "Yesterday, I was a boy." She spun him and applied more lip gloss. "Yesterday was a thousand years ago, and tomorrow is a million. Sweetie, this feels right. We could wait and we could stick a toe into the water. And then another, and we could gradually make you my sissy. But why not go where we both know this is leading? No, I'm not accomplished. I have a lot to learn about managing a relationship with a sissy. But I'm nuts about you. Today, I'm going to buy you some clothes. I'm going to buy me some toys. This is going to work!" She looked into his face and grinned. "What should your name be? Elizabeth Joyce? Evelyn Joan?" "How about Emma? I always liked Emma." She nodded. "Emma Jane. To keep the E.J." It was settled. He was Emma. He had a Mistress. He was wearing a bra and panties. He had been so easy, so willing. It was as if his soul was waiting for the right nudge to push him back into this life." He looked into the mirror. He smiled at the sissy there. Lo and behold, she smiled back at him. * * * "So you got him into a dress the next day? That's incredible. And you got him to fellate a candle. I'd say you're off to a great start." "I guess. I just think he's sweet." "Then what's the problem?" "Doctor, it feels like ... entrapment. Like manipulation. If it wasn't for this test, and for me, she'd still be jeans." "Mindy...but would he be happy? You didn't make him a sissy. You just took the chains off the door. E.J. is a big boy. He doesn't have to wear panties if he doesn't want to." "Emma." "Excuse me?" "She's decided she should be called 'Emma,' " Mindy said. "And we use "her" and "she." "Oh, that's outstanding," Dr. Hardesty said. "You have a real gift for this Mistress stuff. You ought to buy a whip. And a leather dress." "Well, I spent some money today. Lingerie. Negligees. Maid's dresses. A wig. Makeup. Jewelry." He shrugged. "Try not to go overboard, but spend what you have to. We want Emma to be a real sissy. Keep the receipts." "Doctor? What happens to her?" "What do you mean?" "I mean, when this is all over. When I've written the paper, when you've filed your reports, when we both have what we want... what becomes of her?" "Well, I assume she finds herself a Mistress. Maybe a Master with a large penis. Look, she'll have all of her clothes to keep. She'll keep any surgical augmentation we make. We're going to help her become herself." "Surgical augmentation?" "You know. Lips. Ass. Boobs. Larynx. She'll be the Six-Million Dollar Sissy." Mindy scowled. "Hey, come on," Hardesty said. "That was funny. The Six- Million Man? God, did no one watch old TV shows?" "Doctor, I believe in the old theory. You do not disturb. You do not harm. You observe but do not change things." "Is that Spencer?" "No, Doctor. It's from Star Trek." * * * That night, Mindy brought packages home. She personally thought it was too soon, but Dr. Hardesty disagreed. She had panties in the bag. And bras. And three maid's dresses. A plain blue skirt. A white sundress and a matching floppy hat. Makeup. She had decided that Emma's hair would be sufficient. After all, Emma was a sissy. She wasn't Caitlyn Jenner. She walked into the apartment, and she almost thought she was in the wrong place. It was immaculate. Her clothes were put away. The dishes were washed. Her laundry was ironed and put away. Emma looked at her. "I...kind of straightened up a bit." "Without being told to. What a wonderful sissy you are. And I have some rewards for you." "Mindy? Mistress, I mean? Do I have to wear women's clothes? It seems kind of soon to me. I was just in jeans the other day." Mindy nodded. "I think we should jump right in, Emma. You're a sissy. I'm the Mistress. You have to trust me to know best. If you really surrender to me, Emma, you aren't going to question this." "Oh, Mistress. I didn't mean to question you." "Emma. I'm going to have to spank you." "Sp...spank me," his eyes widened. Mindy didn't want to, of course. But the guidelines were clear. When it doubt, pound it! "Lay across my knee. Now, let's pull your panties down. I'll give you four licks, okay? And later, you can lick me four times to make up for it." Whap. Whap. Whap WHAP! Mindy let her hand linger on Emma's bottom. Her hand tingled. She liked spanking, she decided. Emma may just be punished a little more in the days to come. "Now, Emma. That hurt me more than it hurt you," she said, although her vagina was on vibrate at the moment. "I'm going to have you insert your own new butt-plug for the rest of your punishment. You'll like your plug, Emma. The salesclerk said that every sissy loves to be plugged." Emma retreated to the bathroom. She looked at the short, fat plug. Was that supposed to fit? She looked for lubricant. Finally finding some, she applied it. She closed her eyes. She wriggled it inside. It stopped. She tried to twist it. It hurt. She paused, letting her muscles get used to it. Then she pushed again. A third time, and it seemed to go in. Why did it feel like a subway car was in her ass? She hobbled outside, her eyes still filled with tears. "Aw, baby, I'm sorry," Mindy said, giggling. "It'll feel better when you get used to it. Tell you what. We won't put the cock cage on until tomorrow, okay?" "Cage? Mistress, I'm not ready to be a sissy. It hurts too much." "So what you're saying is that you're too much of a sissy to be a sissy? Girl, that's the silliest thing I've ever heard. Now, let's try on the blue maid's dress. I want to see how pretty you are." "Why do I have to be a maid? I know I'm feminine, okay. I get that. But a domestic?" "It's part of the fantasy, Emma. Just trust me. Listen to Mistress." Soon, Emma was dressed. The shame of it, Mindy thought, was that Emma looked too much like a girl. She would have liked to have had her sissy be a little more embarrassed, to more obviously be a guy in a dress. But Emma passed just fine with her pouty lips and her soft features. She could have been the secretary of the garden club. That's okay, Mindy said. She could make sure everyone knew that Emma was a sissy. A few exposures, a few photos. She wondered how the guys are Emma's dorm would react. She tapped out a couple of pink pills from a pill bottle. She put them beside a glass with water. "Emma, sweetheart. You need to take these pills." "Can I ask what they are?" "You may not. Just take the pills, and let's get ready for another spanking. I do believe you like causing my hand to feel pain, don't you, you naughty sissy." Their time had been so short. But Emma had jumped in the deep end. There was nothing she would not do as her sissy. Cooking, cleaning. Sexual games. Mindy thought about the paper she would write. Yes, she could hold back her own tears. * * * No pun intended, but the cage was the hardest thing. It was tight and foreign, and her panties didn't feel as good with it. Then the was the trust issue. He had to have someone else unlock him. Otherwise, he was useless. But heels? He loved his heels, the clackety noise they made. He had wobbled some, but not much. They reminded him of his surrender. Emma stayed at Mindy's apartment all weekend. When it was time to change clothes, Mindy's closet was at her command. Well, most of it. Mindy wouldn't let Emma wear pants. Or Capri's. Or shorts. It had to be a skirt or a dress "because that's what sissies wear." But this was Monday, and Emma had classes. She faced a dilemma. What would her Mistress allow her to wear. "I don't see the problem," Mindy said. "Just wear a dress and be done with it. Fuck the world." "Mindy...Mistress...I can't wear a dress to class. I'm not ready for it." Mindy considered. She had pushed Emma so hard to accept her nature. Maybe she should back off for a while. She had been annoyed that Dr. Hardesty pushed Emma too hard. She didn't want to do the same thing. "I'll tell you what, Emma," she said. "It goes against my nature, but what if I let you wear trousers for a couple of days." "That would be so good..." "Hold on. There are stipulations. You still have to wear panties and hose. No bra this week, but next week, you have to wear one, though without inserts. So, easy enough to hide. No makeup, but you do have to carry a purse.'' "...A purse?" "Absolutely. As soon as your last class is over, I want lipstick on you. Within one hour, without fail, I expect you to be in a dress. Oh, and before you ask, you will wear your butt plug and your cock cage." "But, I ..." "Are you arguing with me, Emma?" "Oh, no ma'am." "Because I can warm your bottom for you." She winked at him. "Your conditions are fine, ma'am. Within an hour. Without fail." And so Emma dressed, and she went to class. She felt that this was role play, a disguise. She was a guy - at least the clothing people could see - though the sissy was the real her. It had only been days. But it was the dresses that felt comfortable, the panties. The pants felt like a costume. She went to English, and to sociology. Finally, she had her psych class. She was assigned as part of a six-person group that consisted of two football players (Tim and Knuckles), two sorority girls - (Binky and Nancy), a nerd (Warren) and herself. They started discussing the effects of long-term sleep deprivation. Elijah (Emma) quietly joined them. Warren, as you might guess, was doing most of the talking. He was talking about how Napoleon never slept and still conquered most of the world. Nancy was talking about how astronauts stayed awake in space and were still alert. Cops. Criminals. Students. Binky turned and said: "We're going to be here a while. This study group may be here for a long time after class ends. Hope you don't have any plans." But he did. He had to get home and change. What was he going to do? He faked a cough, to convince someone he was sick. "What? The fag sick? Do you have Aids? Don't fucking cough on me!" It was Knuckles, and he was pissed. So he didn't fake any more coughs. He let the time roll past. It took 10 minutes to get to the apartment if the traffic wasn't heavy. Maybe an extra five to get out of the room and the building. He looked at the clock. Nancy was arguing that the occupations where workers needed the most sleep - doctors and airline pilots and cops - were the ones where people pushed the clock the hardest. Warren talked about a hospital case where a patient had the wrong foot removed because the doctor was so tired, and the group fell into a conversation about that. It was 1:30 now. Elijah (Emma) started to sweat. But Tim told the group he had practice, and he and Knuckles would be leaving soon. Nancy said we might as well wait for tomorrow. So Emma was saved! She started out of the room, and remembered that Mindy had said something about her lipstick. She reached for it...and realized she had forgotten her purse. She had to go back. Mindy would be angry if she was late, but furious if she lost her new purse. So she went to the head of the class and asked the teacher, Professor Roland, if he had seen a leather bag. "You mean a handbag? A purse?" Roland said. "Yes, sir," she said "Is it yours? You carry a purse?" "Well, it's a shoulder bag," I said. "Elijah, I looked inside to try to get I.D." he said. "I found lipstick and a Tampax. Class? Did anyone see Elijah bring his...pocketbook to class." Julie Teal, a blond from the class, raised her hand. "He was carrying it, sir. I know, because I thought that he didn't know he was a homosexual, but obviously he is one." "But I'm not..." "Well, if Elijah is a homosexual, it's his business. We all know that homosexuality is a case of birth. Elijah can't help being gay. If he likes men, that's his business. Balls on the chin is a lifestyle we don't have to understand." Elijah (Emma) blushed. He stared at the floor. The teacher was obviously insulting him by sounding like he was defending him. "It's ok, E.J.," Terry Dalton, one of his oldest friends, was patting his shoulder. "A lot of guys come out of the closet. Hell, I always figured you were gay. You have that look, you know?" So Professor Roland handed her the purse, and she rushed out of the room. "Your time of the month?" Knuckles asked as she rushed past them. She was late. Maybe Mistress wouldn't notice. She flew to her car, then she started to drive. She got home at 2:27. She opened the door and rushed inside. She ran upstairs and started changing. The door opened, and it was Mindy. "You're late," she said. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I lost my purse, and I had to go in front of the entire class to get it. I ... I was kind of outed. The whole class thinks I'm gay." Mistress shrugged. "I'm glad you got your purse back. That was a fairly expensive purse. Of course, you know I'm going to have to spank for for being late." "Mistress, couldn't you let me off with a warning?" "Emma, I'm disappointed you asked. You were almost a half-hour late. I think you should get what's fair. Twenty-seven licks. Right?" She looked at her. A tear fell down her face. "Please?" she said. "God, what a fucking pussy," she said. "Assume the position." Emma unfastened her trousers, leaned over, then fell into her lap when she offered it. And the spanking began. She wondered if her neighbors could hear. She tried to take her mind other places besides the pain. She tried to tell herself this was the life she had chosen. And then she cried. * * * Emma sat the plush office her blue skirt with a white blouse, reading the diplomas on the wall. Dr. Jack Hardesty was evidently an accomplished man. Impressive. He walked into the room, reading a file. He looked up and saw her. "Oh, you must be Emma," he said. "I didn't know you had arrived. Please, sit." Emma sat, keeping her knees together. No one had told her to do that. It was just one of the feminine gestures that came easily to her. Hardesty saw it and nodded. "Emma, how are you?" "I'm fine, doctor," she said. He look at her in her skirt and blouse, her hair was only mid-length, but her makeup was good. A fine specimen. "I have to say. I have never seen test results quite so convincing for a sissy. You should be very proud of yourself. I understand you are seeing Mindy. My assistant?" "Yes, sir," Emma said. "We've just started dating." "She's a good girl. But I'm a little surprised you like girls. Aren't you a homosexual?" "No, sir. A great many sissies are straight. Not that it matters if men love each other. Or women." Hardesty nodded. "Well, have you tried it? How do you know that you don't prefer...men's organs." "I just know sir, the way I know that it would be a bad idea to jump off a building." "Emma...would you wipe that smudge off of my grad school diploma? The one from Penn State?" Emma rose, and although she didn't see a smudge, she wiped it. Hardesty smiled. Emma didn't even realize when she was taking orders. This was good. "Emma? Would you kiss my penis?" "Excuse me, sir?" "I've had a stressful day, Emma. I would like it very much if you would give me a blow job." "Sir...I'm with Mindy. I ... don't do that." "Are you sure?" He said, standing to give Emma a full view of his crotch. "No one would have to know. You know you would like to. Just imagine it. The flesh sliding in and out of your mouth. A sissy's dream, isn't it." "No...no, sir. It's not mine." "Why are you repressing, Emma? Your tests say you are gay. They say that you want to suck cock. I didn't make that up. Being a fag is part of you." Emma flinched at the "f" word. Despite his power, and despite of the way Emma loved authority, she didn't care much for Hardesty. There was no romance to him, no seduction. He merely walked in and pointed to his dick and expected the sissy to perform. Perhaps in another setting, in a world without his Mistress, he might have. But Mindy would not approve. He was sure of that. "Sir...did you have more tests?" she said. "Oh, very well. You know the drill. You change and we attach electrodes to you, and then we give you a word. All you have to do is react." "Yes, sir." "And Emma. I trust you will not repeat our little indiscretion. It would hurt Mindy terribly to find you had come onto me." "But you came onto me," I protested. "And who would be believed? A little sissy like you? Or an admired man of letters like me? Do not try me, you little faggot. The school would believe me. My wife would believe me. Mindy would believe me." Ashamed, he hung his head. He was trapped. Dr. Hardesty was right. No one would believe him. The world believed sissies were cock-hungry perverts. In a short time, Emma has decided the sissies weren't that odd. This was a subtle life for a sissy,But to the outsiders, this was a cause for derision, for shame. Hardesty called Maria, another lab assistant, and had her take Emma to the changing room. She dressed quickly, putting on a jade green teddy that Mindy had purchased for her. It was nice, but it showed off her flat bosom. She walked barefoot to the cot, where Maria attached the electrodes. "By the way, Emma. I think you're lovely. Don't worry about Hard-On Hardesty. We all know what happened." She smiled. Nodded. She lay back on the cot, and Maria put pads on her eyes. "Okay, sweetie. Are you ready?" "I'm ready." "First word: Touchdown." "Second word: Ammonia." "Third word: Rape." "Fourth word: Testicle." And then: "First word: Bovine." "Second word: Souffle." "Third word: Asshole." "Fourth word: Interracial." Followed by: "First word: Apron." "Second word: Earring." "Third word: Blow job." "Fourth word: Peignoir." The terms they were throwing at her seemed more blunt today, more direct. It was as if the first test panning for gold, and this one was developing the mine. She wondered if maybe that was why Mindy had recused herself, because of their new relationship. She was on her own. "Okay," Maria said. "Are you ready? I hope these terms don't offend you. Being a sissy, though, I can't imagine they would." That was wrong, Emma was thinking. Sissies can be offended as well as anyone. Maybe more so. We are sensitive creature. And not just in the ass. "First word: Brothel." "Second word: Camisole." "Third word: Bestiality." "Fourth word: Corset." And then: "First word: Adultery." "Second word: Garter." "Third word: Stilleto." "Fourth word: Whore." Followed by: "First word: Collar." "Second word: Petticoat." "Third word: Urination." "Fourth word: Gangbang." And that was it. There were no more tests today. Emma sat up. She walked back into the changing room. She dressed quickly. Perhaps it was returning to the place where her life had changed, but Emma felt nostalgic for her days as Elijah. She wore dresses constantly now. She was never without makeup. So was she something less now, or something more? Dr. Hardesty treated her as if she didn't matter, as if she was just a sexual object for him to use. Even Maria, with her "sweetie" and "cutie" lines, was condescending. Mindy. Mindy was the one she trusted in all of this. Little did she know that Mindy had seen her take the test from the observation room, which had two-way glass. To Mindy, this show of neutrality was huge. She had to establish herself as unpartisan, which isn't easy to do when one is having sex with a patient. This time, however, it couldn't be helped. Besides, she liked screwing Emma. Emma's ass was so sensitive, and when she entered her with her new double-headed dildo, it was heaven. But there could be no mistaking sides here. She worked for Hardesty, not for Emma. Emma would be fine. She'd be much better off as a sissy than when Mindy had found her. She be happy. And Mindy? She had a chance at the Stanley Award. That's what mattered. Right? * * * "Emma needs dick." Hardesty stormed around his lab, and he kept coming back to the same conclusion. Most of being a sissy is about submission, after all, and there was no greater way to submit than to take a cock into her mouth. Besides, Hardesty reasoned, it would strengthen his own story about Emma coming onto him, rather than the other way around. So he had told Mindy that it was time for Emma to have a male lover. It was only a matter of which one. And when. But, Hardesty warned, this would happen. Mindy was not so sure. Perhaps part of it was her nurturing gene. Perhaps part of it was to protect her sissy. But she thought that if Emma was going to have a man, it should happen naturally. That she should meet some guy in a bar, and the two of them should go to his bedroom after a dance or two. Then it would happen. But Hardesty was insistent. Loud. Repetitive. At times like this, Mindy felt like she was Emma, and Hardesty was her master, and all she could do was follow orders. Hey, drill sergeants had people they had to salute, too. He ran through his checklist. Was Emma doing her chores? Was she pantied all the time? Had she started her estrogen? How did she like heels? Did she like anal sex? Oral sex? Did she wear a cock cage? A butt plug? Had she had a man? Mindy had nodded each time until the final question. But she figured fellatio would take months. It had only been weeks. Again, Hardesty was rushing things. God, he was hard to please. Oh, Mindy was tough enough. That morning, for the first time, she had insisted that Emma wear a dress to class. God, the humiliation. Can you imagine, walking into a classroom for the first time where everyone knows you as a guy, and you're in a dress with heels and fake boobs? Mindy giggled. That was so cool. One of the guys, a guy named Knuckles, had openly admired her ass. It was only when Knuckles found out that Emma was really Elijah that he got pissed. If a guy named Tim hadn't pulled him back, warning him that he could lose his scholarship, Emma might have gotten punched. Mindy didn't want her hurt. But embarrassed would do. "Class," Professor Roland began. "This is an unusual situation, but you are all aware that these days, genders are fluid. Men become women, women become men. Well, one of our students has made a transition. Elijah Dawson is now Emma, a submissive. A sissy, he calls it. Treat Emma with dignity, please. We are all adults. Welcome to our class, Emma. We welcome sissies." And Knuckles burst out laughing, and the rest of the class joined in, and Emma felt a half-inch high. Was this any of their business? From now on, however, everyone in this class, everyone on campus, would hear about the sissy. It would be his defining characteristic. He could wear overalls and Elvis jumpsuits from now until the turn of the century, and he would still be the sissy. Mindy had told him that she was freeing him from scorn, not exposing him to it. That if people laughed now, in a week everyone would be over it. But it didn't feel that way. He felt everyone he walked past was making fun of him. That every conversation was about the boy in the dress. He kept his head down. He didn't talk to anyone. Then there was a voice. And a smiling black face. "Having a hard day?" It was Tim Jernigan, the starting free safety from the football team. She looked up, and saw that his face seemed impassive, non-judgmental. "Yeah," she said. "It's a little ... humiliating." "Cavemen," he said. "Don't worry about them. The good people will come out. Wait and see." "I hope so," she said. "Emma, right? Emma, eventually, the people in your life find out about you. Whether you're straight or gay or a submissive or a lesbian ... or bisexual. People find out. I admire your courage. I admire you being out front." Her heart swelled. Someone got it. "Thank you , Tim. Yeah, I know who you are. Of course I know, you being a jock and all. It's very sweet of you to say something." "No problem. You do realize that when I talked about bisexuality, I meant me. So I know your secret, and you know mine. Not that you're a secret anymore." "I kinda figured you meant you. Who the hell am I to judge?" "I've been judged," Tim said. "You ever hear of these tests they give in the psych department?" "I took those!" Tim laughed. "Me too. And they discovered I was a door that opened both ways.There was this girl there. Mindy Ginsburg. She mentioned you to me." "Oh. I know Mindy very well. We're kind of...together." He laughed. "Figures. She talks about you to me, and she steals you for herself." Emma smiled. "Can we be...friends. I could use a friend." "Of course we can be, pretty lady. Should I call you lady? Or sissy?" "Either one is fine, Tim.' Or just Emma." "Look, don't worry about Knuckles. He has an I.Q. in single digits. He thinks sexual identity is lighting your farts. He doesn't understand sissies." "Sometimes, I don't either." He grinned. "If you have a hard time, talk to me. If you get confused, talk to me. I'm not scared to be seen chatting with you, okay?" "Maybe a little?" "Maybe a little," he agreed. "But I'm not even a little afraid to watch your ass as you leave." She laughed. For a guy, he was sweet. And she needed some sweetness. * * * Mindy was home when She got there, laying on the couch and reading a novel. The new Harper Lee novel. "Hi Mistress," Emma said. '"How was your day?" "It was okay. How did everyone like you in a dress." "Not much," she said. "I think I was going to get pounded if this guy hadn't stopped his numbskull buddy. A lot of people don't like sissies." "Well, I love one of them. Who was the guy?" "You know him. A guy named Tim Jernigan." She grinned. "Tim! I thought you might want to meet him." "He's sweet. He says you mentioned me to him." "Emma, I was trying to fix you two up, ninny." "Fix me up? But you and me..." "We're for always, Emma. It doesn't mean that a sissy has to be a nun. If you want to lick a dick, well, that's okay. It really is." "Mistress! I would never cheat on you." "Is it cheating if I approve? Honey, you're a sissy. Sissies have urges. I've always thought you'd like a boyfriend. It doesn't mean you're going to leave me. I know that. You can get your blow job on if you want. It's okay." Gay or straight, sissy or sadist, Emma realized, a lot of humans are monogomous. They crave relationships as much as sexual stimulation. But Mindy was telling her that it was okay to experiment. That would take some getting used to. Yeah, she thought Tim was attractive. But she'd never been with a man, and she'd only rarely considered it. She imagined it now, that thing pointed at her face, of it getting closer, of it spurting cream. She shivered. If she was honest, yeah, she had heard worse ideas. Mistress had been creative lately. She had put her in a diaper the night before. She didn't care for it. She was an adult sissy, and she loved her panties. She had made a regular thing of pegging her, of wearing her dildo panty and ravaging her ass. She had her sleep in handcuffs. She had him crouch nude in the shower, and she had peed on her. She had her act like a cat one night. It was as if she had a checklist of different variances, and she was checking out how Emma felt about them all. In a way, it was a physical version of the word association game. But Emma trusted Mistress. She wouldn't do anything to hurt her. Mistress was just trying to widen the boundaries, to make her happy. After all, she had given her everything, her identity, her dresses, her sexuality. She was hers. She was clay. * * * Mindy sat in Jack Hardesty's office, thumbing through her notes on Emma. It was getting harder to think of her as an impersonal project, but that was the only way it worked for her. "Mindy?" the voice whispered. "Yes," she said, looking around the room. "It is our time, Mindy. Come to your Master." She twisted in her chair, and there he stood in the doorway. He was dressed in black, with a cape and a large set of black flaxen wings. He was wearing a mask. For some reason, Mindy immediately thought of comic books. Batman? Hawkman? The kid they would have if Batman made Hawkman pregnant? Mindy started to giggle. Hardesty looked like a loon. Was it for this idiot that she'd been testing out and betraying what she knew were Emma's real needs? For this ... politician? "Stop that. I command it." he said. She laughed harder. She could not see it, but her laughter wilted his erection like taking air from a balloon. "What...are are you doing, Dr. Hardesty?" "Um, I thought it was time for me to establish my dominance." "In that? Who would dominate. Sponge Bob?" "What do you mean. It's a fine suit. You could fall down and kiss my boots." "I don't think so, Hard-On. Yeah, that's what the other students call you. Hold on. There. That's a nice photo on my cell phone. Right in front of your diploma." "It...it isn't supposed to work like this," Hardesty said. "You're supposed to worship me." "Hard-On? I think you're a sad old man who pushes my sissy around. I think you've always been a borderline perv. I never expected this, even though every woman who works in this department goes into your office with a tape recorder running. I'm guessing that JoAnne and the others will find this tape...enlightening." "Please, Mindy. We worked so well together." "Bullshit. You never cared for Emma as a human being. You were willing to throw her away. Well, I think it's time that the tables were turned." "What do you mean?" "I mean it's time you went to storage. There are women's clothes there. I think you should wear something nice Maybe a bright yellow sundress. Maybe a maid's dress. Let's see what's there." "Come on, Mindy." "Mistress." He exhaled. He nodded. "Come on, Mistress. Don't make me do that." "Oh, I think I will. Have you seen what quality videos you can take with the new iphone? It'll be like a strip-tease, only in reverse. I'm sure one of the maids who works here has some clothes there. You're Jackie Hardesty, sissy in charge. You're going to ask the dean if you can suck his cock. Otherwise, we talk about who's really in charge." A tear rolled down Hardesty's cheek. He was going to be the ultimate Master. Instead, he was going to kneel. He was going to get into Mindy's pussy. Intead, he was going to be Mindy's pussy. God, that Mindy was a bitch. She was evil and conniving and manipulative. Just like him. That same thought crossed Mindy's mind too. Yes, she had been. Even with the sissy she loved. Well, no matter, a Mistress can do anything with her sissy, can't she? Still, she felt a pang of regret. But only a pang. * * * The nachos at Riley's are pretty good, especially if you get extra jalapenos. Emma grabbed a chip, and the cheese didn't want to let go. She took a bite, and a long strand broke loose and landed on her chin. She giggled. Tim reached over and dabbed at her chin. "Your lips are luscious enough without cheese on them," he said. "I was going to add bacon," she tittered. He grinned. She had called him that afternoon, just before football practice. They had set up the meeting, beer and nachos. "I'm glad you called me," he said. "You said if I needed a friend." "I'm one of those," he said. "I'd like to be more." "You know I'm with Mistress," she said. "Curse of my life," he said. "It doesn't have to be. She told me it was okay with her if we wanted to be ... together." He grinned. "It's okay with me, too." She blushed. "Tim...I've never been with a guy before." "Oh, we're strange creatures. We scratch ourselves and fart in public. We drink beer and watch sports. And we, how do you say it, screw." She giggled. "Well, I don't scratch or fart or watch sports." He reached out and touched my arm. "Emma, I find you very attractive. Do you find me attractive?" "Oh, yes," she said. "I kept looking at your chest. It's all I can do not to lick it." "Well, as bad as I need the money, I'd let you lick it for free." She giggled. "We should probably do this at Mistress' apartment. She said she was okay with this, but I want to make sure. I think she's home tonight." "Really? I was doing the follow-up to my tests today, and she was at the psych lab. I got the impression she was hanging out with Dr. Hardesty." "With Hard-On?" Emma giggled. "Yeah," he said. "The guy fucks every assistant he's ever had." He caught himself and tried to recover. "Except for Mindy, I'm sure. But he's a real ass. Has his assistants give golden showers to their subjects?" Emma's eyes narrowed. Could it be? The physical acts that Mindy had asked her to perform? The insistence on rushing her into public? Could she be working with Hardesty? Could she be under everyone microscope? It made sense to her. Hardesty was a control freak. Mindy was a control freak. And her? She was just a freak, the mouse caught between two cats. She felt like a fucking fool. It made sense. Damn, it made sense. It was like Tim had turned the lights on, and suddenly, she could see. She was submissive, all right. She was the shit Mindy and Hardesty scraped off of their shoes. "Tim. I changed my mind. Can we go to your place?" "Of course," he said. "As long as you're okay with it." "As long as you bring your dick," she said, "I'm fine with it." * * * She was kissing him before he could close the door. Her hands were all over him. She was wild, wanton. Still hearing the echo of deception, some sissies might have pulled away from the life. Emma decided to dive in. And she was going to start with Tim's cock in her mouth. Mistress wanted her to be with a man. Well, she was damn well going to be. She fell to her knees and unbuckled his belt, in such a hurry that she fumbled it. She pulled his pants down, and there it was, the most beautiful penis she had ever imagined. She reached out and touched it carefully, lifting it, tracing the veins with her fingers. Tim moaned, but she forced herself to take her time. She cupped his testicles, soft as they were. She lifted his cock - so much larger than hers - and examined the underside like it was the eighth wonder of the world. She giggled. She had one of those? Well, not in that size. Finally, she leaned forward and ran her tongue up the underside. Then she engulfed as much as she could take at once. She gagged a bit, so she backed off, twirling her tongue around the knob, sucking the tip gently. She didn't know how to suck cock, but enthusiasm took her a long way. Her head bobbed. She felt his penis quiver. Then he came in spurts. She sealed the bulb with her lips and tried to catch it all. She swallowed, because she knew guys liked that. She had done it! She sucked cocks! And frankly, she thought she could learn to like it. Dicks fit her mouth just fine. Sperm tasted just fine. She was a sissy, wasn't she. Was this for revenge? Partially, maybe. But this was about broken trust, too. If Mindy was not who she loved, then she would love who she was with. She lay beside Tim, and he spooned her. "Give me 10 minutes," he whispered. "And I'll fuck you til your brains run out of your ears." She lifted his hand and kissed it. "In football," she asked, "is this called getting a sack?" He laughed. "Close enough, sissy girl," he said. "Close enough." * * * Two weeks later, she sat at Skyline Chili with Mistress Mindy. She picked at her pasta with her fork. She was not hungry. "Emma," she said. "I'm sorry, Emma." Emma like at her with fire in her eyes. "All due respect, Mistress, but I'm pissed. Not even sissies like to be used. All a sissy has is trust.You stripped that from me. You lied to me. You ripped a hole in me." "I love you," Mindy said. Emma shook her head. "I can't hear that right now. You were taking fucking notes our whole time together. A fucking paper was more important to you than I was. A paper for that asshole." "At first," Mindy said. "Not at the end." "So you think we live our life in chapters? You think every day is a fresh canvas? Trust is a straight line, Mistress. You can't have trust onTuesday and Friday and Sunday. God, did you hurt me. I didn't think I could be hurt like this." "I'm sorry. But you got clothes out of this. Your tits are coming in nicely. You met Tim." "You pissed on me," she seethed. "You let people laugh. A sissy is a fragile thing. So is a relationship with one. This was about trust, Mistress. Trust. The other shit doesn't matter. It's just stuff. This is about tears." Mindy nodded. "I got Hard-On fired." she said. "Yeah, that had a little style. I'll give you credit for that. He really wore wings?" "Big wax wings. Like Icarus." "Who?" "The guy in mythology who flew too close to the sun. You know, like me. I had a love, and I flew too close to the sun." "I feel like I'm the one who crashed. Mistress...Mindy. We love, and we are loyal. I washed your shitty underwear. I let you spank me. My boobs are growing because of you. How am I supposed to submit to you when I don't believe in you? " "Will you ever? Baby, I love you. We can get past this." Emma shook her head. "It would take a lot of time." "I've got time." "You know I've been at Tim's for two weeks." "I know. Hard to believe I set that up." "Hard for me to believe, too. I didn't think I liked guys. I'm adjusting. I'm meeting his folks this weekend. No secrets." She reached out with both of her hands. She covered Emma's. "Emma. Let's at least be friends. I think you'll forgive me eventually. I have to believe that. I can't imagine us not being together." "It's hard for me, too, Mistress. But trust takes a long time to fix." "I'm not going anywhere," she said. Emma nodded. She slid out of the booth. She walked to the cash register, where Tim was waiting.He stood up and took her hand. Together, they walked out toward toward the future. (c) 2015 by Cassandra Morgan