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Mistress Maggie

By: Joscelyn2tg



My Dear Reader,

Welcome to a most unorthodox love story. A story containing romance, transgenderism, spirituality and yes, even S&M.

But first allow me to ask you a question, and when you reach the end of this story, it will make much more sense to you. If your soul returned in the body of someone else after you died. And you were allowed to whisper one thing, one sentence, to your previous lover to convince them that it was really you talking to them at that moment... what would you say?

Many thanks to Dreamweaver594 for his help with this.

Cheers!

Josie

*****

"C'mon ya little faggot!" He sneered as if pulled from central casting for a 1940 serial's evil villain role, "you sissies just love your bling... so where... the hell... IS IT!"

I was collapsed on the floor next to the bed, curled up in a fetal position, quite incapable of saying anything after having just had a fist slammed into my stomach. My main effort was now to get air back into my lungs. A thief, surprised to find me walking out of the bathroom in my hotel room, had recovered enough from his shock to drop me with a single punch. 

Dressed in the female attire that my Mistress had laid out for me, I was far more surprised by his intrusion than he could have ever been by my unexpected presence in a room he thought to be empty, and therefore a good place to hide. In fact, I'd just finished dressing, sliding on the black patent open-toed 4-inch high heels, and buckling each of their two little ankle straps firmly onto my feet. Twisting the little screws of the silver hoop earrings tightly onto each ear. Slipping the 3 silver bangles and pinky ring onto my wrists and finger now made up the sum total of my available jewelry. Of course, I used a few spritz' of perfume to add to my feminine persona, which then only left my black kidskin leather collar. The catch here, literally, was that I had no key, and once I snapped the catch shut, only my Mistress could remove it. But I'd come to the realization that such things weren't my decision anymore, my Mistress specifically said it must be worn, and that... as they say... was that.

I knew that my Mistress wanted me ready by eleven sharp, and being ready on time was never optional. Trying to check the time made me realize that my left wrist was bare, and I'd left the watch my Mistress picked out for me on the counter in the bathroom. I started to turn towards the bathroom to fetch the dainty TAG Heuer ladies wristwatch when I stopped to glance once more into the mirror. My clothing made me appear as a well-dressed woman, but I had yet to apply my make-up, and this exposed me as a male cross-dresser to the thief, who had somehow entered the room silently, and was watching from the shadows of the entry hall, near the door. Although surprised by my presence in a room he believed to be empty, he recovered quickly.

As I exited the bathroom focused on the tiny clasp of the watchband, the thief saw his chance, and since he now knew I was male, hit me just as hard as he could. His sucker punch dispelling all the air from my lungs, and preventing me from calling out for help while he ransacked my room. But once the thief finished tearing my room apart and screaming all of his insults, it was pretty obvious that there just wasn't any more 'bling' to be had here.

Just then, both of us heard a keycard being slid into the door's locking mechanism. The thief froze for a split second, but he'd already thought of this. He was dressed in the uniform of a bellboy, the same type used in this hotel. Now he grabbed the bag of loot from the floor that he'd pilfered so far, along with a few towels, to cover any story he needed to make on his way out.

Suddenly there appeared the most gorgeous creature this sneering thief had ever laid eyes on. Striding in on black patent leather, metal-toed, 6-inch stiletto heeled pumps, with black fishnet stockings, all else being hidden by a calf-length leather coat. Guessing at a height of 5-feet 10-inches tall, those heels made everything about her a best guess on his part. Her weight could not have been more than 160 pounds of leather-clad minx. Endlessly curly platinum hair tumbled beautifully past her shoulders, while her eyes were covered by narrow, blacked out, Foster Grants. She carried a large canvas bag that seemed bizarrely out of place in such a high-end hotel room, but she dropped it on the floor almost as soon as she'd passed the doorway.

She looked first at the one on the floor, then the other in the uniform, as she pursed her deliciously defined, deep red lips and placed her kidskin-gloved hands on top of her hips. By now, her Ransom perfume was just barely wafting past their noses, taking them aback even more. While behind the FGs, her sapphire blues were giving off flashes of lightning, something was not right here, and she'd felt it immediately.

"Visitors?" she asked, with one very well coifed eyebrow arching high above the other.

The thief was still mesmerized by this vision, but I had regained my breathing.

"M-Mistress... a th-thief... look out!" I exclaimed, although what I would have possibly expected her to do was beyond me at that point, all I knew was I had to do something!

My cries had awoken the thief from his reverie, cocking his head, once he understood the word.

"Mistress," he said, again sneering while holding the 'S' sound for a while.

"Mistress Magdalyn," she announced, "Glad to meet you... my friends call me Maggie!"

"Ha!" the thief laughed, "do they now, bitch!"

She stepped towards him, offering her hand, and even though he rolled his eyes, the thief smiled back cruelly while taking her hand with his. He had every intention of grabbing her wrists, throwing her on the bed, assaulting her, and probably more... a lot more. But he didn't know Maggie as I'd begun to know her, for as their hands touched, the thief was brought to his knees in an agonizing scream of pain. She used her other hand to take off her sunglasses, flinging them onto the bed, and opened the front of her coat in order to grab something in one of its inside panels, but leaving her hand inside, she now held whatever it was out of sight, yet readied.

The thumb and forefinger of her right hand had grasped the thief's right hand in about the middle of his palm, between the 3rd and 4th fingers at the knuckles, with the rest of her fingers gracefully raised as if making no greater effort than drinking from a teacup! Apparently, she had him in some sort of nerve-pinch, and based upon the horrible screams and grimaces he was making, it must have been very painful.

As I watched this all unfold, I saw a terrible fury in this woman's eyes, and yet she remained in full control of the situation. Her emotion flowed from a powerful and all-inclusive source. Something massive existed in her soul that was now screaming into our hapless thief's ears.

"...and all I need to know my little one," she was shouting, "is did this... thing... hurt you?"

As she glanced over at me, I had genuine fear for the now sniveling thief that had struck me... he also shot a pleading glance in my direction. I only wanted this to be over with, as I had no idea what she might do if I told her the truth... or what if the thief managed to get loose?! So...

"I-I j-just f-fell Mistress," I replied, "h-he... he never hurt me!"

Once again, one of those perfectly styled eyebrows arched high onto her elegant forehead. She gave me a wry smile, then returned her attention to the pathetic form on its knees in front of her. After she released his hand, he soothed it with his other, to make it feel better. Then, just as she glanced away, he twisted 'round to grab something from the waistband of his cummerbund.

But sadly for our thief, she had foreseen this move as well, and it was a surprisingly short kick from the metal-tipped toe of her stiletto to where his cock and balls appeared to reside. The switchblade knife he had been trying for clattered onto the floor between them as he now needed both hands to hold his privates in a useless effort to make anything feel better. 

"Now weasel," she hissed at him, "get out of here before I get angry!"

Groaning loudly, the thief suddenly vomited next to the door. He then managed to get one hand away from his privates and grasp the door handle. Eventually getting the door open, he pushed his way into the hall, stumbling down to the main elevator area.

Maggie came over and helped me up, and onto the bed, all while giving me an eyeful of what had been hidden by her coat... a black fishnet catsuit, along with leather bra and panties! Her body was simply goddess material, easily carrying her 38-28-36 frame on feline legs balancing her 38DD chest over tight, yet beautifully curved hips that allowed her body to produce a rolling symphony with each step she took. Simply put, no man could walk that way! Watching me carefully, to see if I was all right, she spoke in a low, Kathleen Turner tone of voice...

"Looks as if I owe you an apology little one," she said, "This used to be a pretty posh hotel."

"You couldn't have known this would happen, my Mistress." I said in my feminine voice.

Suddenly the ice-cold demeanor melted, overtaken by a look of boiling-hot, starving passion, located deep within the core of those crystal blue orbs. Then something distracted her... only for the merest fraction of a second... and it was gone. Oh God! How I wanted that look back!

Instead she got up and began pacing the floor, snatching the switchblade off the carpet and putting it into one of the inside compartments of her greatcoat. Then, suddenly producing her cell phone, she began calling someone.

"Hi Janie," she said, "I need to find a name from my old rolodex... yeah, that one... I'm looking for a Paul Fletcherd... I think that was it. Might be under Hilton."

As I looked upon this pacing wildcat moving back and forth in front of me... nothing, and I mean nothing, had prepared me for what I'd become involved with. I had managed to learn some things about her, yes... but only enough to move to another level, as if she were playing a multi-dimensional chess game with real life. And I was always at least three moves behind her.

"Mmhm," she continued her call with Janie, "as in hotels, right... no... Yes! Yeah, he's the one, go ahead... ok, Jane... Thanks!"

"Just gotta get this done sweetie," she said, looking over at me with a single forefinger raised to her lips, "then we can play."

***

Perhaps this is as good a time as any, to back away from what was occurring in this particular hotel room, on this fateful day, and give you some idea of how all of this transpired. It's an involved story, I'll try to go slowly...

Allow me to introduce myself. My name's Thomas Huntsley, and other than having an inspired game of Call Of Duty from time to time, I had a typically boring middle class existence. I realized I was a 'nerd' at an early age, and fell in with other nerds that only lived to find the next big cheat for their games, all the while doing the other things necessary to exist, like school. I found I was good at computers and tinkering with their guts became another obsession. Now at some point puberty hit... bigtime. Suddenly, apparently far too late, I'd discovered girls in time to realize that my body had little if anything to offer the 'fairer' sex. But with a divorced Dad living across the other side of the world, and 4 (yeah four) older sisters, I discovered another side of myself that I also became obsessed with.

With that many sisters, and a body that never quite developed the male characteristics I truly desired, I ended up identical in height, weight and most clothing sizes to my two youngest sisters. In fact, looking at the 3 of us wandering around the third floor of our house, you could be excused for thinking a set of triplets inhabited that floor. I'd always kept my dirty blond hair long just to be different, and yet fit in with my fellow musicians that kept long hair to seem creative.

Anyway, things all started quite innocently... no... no, that's not true, actually I was as horny as any teenaged kid in existence and began peeping under doors, and through locks, while my sisters were getting dressed in their lingerie before going out on dates. And as they grew older, the various pieces became more alluring, softer and what makes me hard to this day, just plain sexy! So I became a collector, at least this is how I rationalized it to myself. Being a very upper middle class family, the girls, my sisters, had more than enough inventory to collect. I started with the odd panty I would find in our bathroom, and quickly realized I'd stumbled upon several addicting substances... satin, silk, nylon, lycra, spandex and not least of all, latex.

Using those to wack-off into at first, it didn't take long to start wearing them, which could trigger instant nipple erections, to match the penile type I'd already discovered. Soon, like any addict, I wanted more and I wanted it all. A Halloween party gave me the guts to ask my sisters for help dressing as a woman and for help teaching me make-up. While this raised suspicions, I knew they'd searched my room far too many times for their missing stuff, and a very well concealed compartment in the very back of my closet had been keeping my secret for years now. At least... from their eyes.

At this point, I really knew I wasn't like other boys. Beyond dressing up, I never 'fit' with any of the other guys at school and what interested them. I seemed very shy, but it was mostly because I didn't have much in common with them. I'd grown up with more than enough girl's toys lying around, I never needed to steal away and sneak into my sister's rooms to play with their dolls and other toys, besides they were all fine with it anyway. Being the only boy, let me get away with anything during inter-sibling rivalries. All my sisters knew that as the only male, I was 'favored' by my parents and they fought amongst themselves to get on my good side. They would make sure I had any doll or girl's toy they owned, if it got me on their side in a major family argument.

The second oldest sister Elizabeth, was like my bodyguard for years. As the other girls brought their friends over to play, we would inevitably get into dress-up games and tea parties, where I would be used as a human doll, and dressed in any and every way they could think of. They thought it was loads of fun, and as strange as it sounds, so did I! Well, at least until it got out of control, which it could on occasion, where one of my sisters would want to please their guests and basically gave them a free hand to do anything they wanted, including making me naked. When things would go that crazy, I could always count on Beth appearing at the door, and in her lowest voice, tell them to clean me up, and make sure my male clothes were back on.

When my mother became aware of some of this, she worked extra hard to make sure I always got the most male-leaning toys she could find, also warning the girls there would be very bad consequences for anyone encouraging my playing with 'female' toys. My sisters were split on this, where my oldest and youngest sisters felt I should be able to be myself and play with any toy I wanted, and the other two felt that my behavior was embarrassing. Even so, they all still felt sympathy for my obvious desire to play with what society considered 'girls' toys.

When we had all passed puberty, things changed in that clothes became private property where toys had always been more common ground. The clothes I collected were pretty minor, in terms of quantity, next to the major thefts that went on between the girls themselves. After a while, it became really hard to collect anything, but this was more because of what my other sisters were stealing from each other, not what I 'collected'! There was even a point where my T-shirts were being stolen on a daily basis because they were simply the most popular piece of clothing at school! But no matter how much I enjoyed the dressing as a female, even dreaming of magically changing my gender, I never could bring myself to think in terms of sexual orientation.

I truly loved girls, all my masturbation fantasies were based on female partners. When I'd been on a hayride with a girl, at a school dance with a girl, even managed to get a date with a girl to the prom, we'd made out like crazy. If you asked them today, they'd be shocked how I turned out and probably would NOT believe you if you were to tell them any of my current behavior. I never saw myself with another man, or as 'gay'... or anything approaching that. But there was one particular situation that produced what I called 'the feeling'. It only affected me when I was dressed as a woman. It was then, that if I saw a man that looked sexy, I would begin to feel that I actually WAS female... that I was a girl in a boy's body and that maybe... I could be sexually attracted to a male... I just didn't know enough about that, and didn't know what my options were even if that were true, all I really knew was that 'the feeling' made me absolutely sure of only one thing. That I couldn't possibly be a male, and it frightened me more than anything... would anyone accept me if I decided to change my sexual gender?

A few times, while fully 'dressed', my fantasies drifted into this uncharted territory, I allowed myself to be a woman, with a man... and make love to that man, as a woman. It was a line I refused to cross in real life, so many things could go so very wrong... therefore... I simply continued to collect my sister's clothes. Eventually, with enough patience, I had collected enough of my sister's clothing that I could have had any beginning teenage starlet jealous. I became the 'family secret', no one spoke about it, but everyone knew, and I was forced into my closet where I might pretend to be a girl... but nothing more.

Then one very cold spring day I met a friend in my senior class at lunch, and he told me that several local IT companies were holding interviews in our cafeteria that next week. I ran up to one of the guidance counselors asking how I could get involved with this and what it was all about. He put me on the list, surprised that I wasn't already, and explained that this interview process was about several positions that these companies were creating for summer interns.

Excited by this huge opportunity, I ran home, scouring the internet for any and all information about the five companies participating in the summer internship program. All of the companies were in the Philadelphia area, so I could find transportation to any of them. Next, I looked for interesting projects that they were working on, writing notes furiously about each one until...

I saw... her... even on a very standard, boring, corporate web page, she leapt from the HTML into my psyche. Startlingly sexy sapphire eyes followed me right off of my PC screen. Platinum curls flowing around her face framed it directly into my mind's eye. I tried to move on, clicking to the next screen several times... something deep within those powerful eyes scared the crap out of me, yet made me foolishly curious as well, within seconds my hardening cock forced me to return and stare at her... I was bewitched. Triad Systems Corp., Development Director, Systems Analysis Group, Magdalyn O'Shea. I knew which company I'd be interviewing with, I threw all the pages of notes I'd written on the other companies in the trash.

Suddenly, as I was sitting at my desk and continuing to stare at Ms. O'Shea, a cold chill hit me, my vision was squeezed down to what you might see through a fish-eye lens of a camera. That lasted for a few seconds, until I had the feeling of being hit by something massive and losing consciousness for several minutes. My youngest sister Patricia came in to see if I was alright after hearing what she described as a 'sonic boom' and everything rattling around on the shelves for a while. By the time she came in, I was recovering and thought it must have been a low-flying jet or something, and I must have bumped my head as a result. We were pretty freaked out by such an occurrence... we never got earthquakes so it was all very strange.


Mistress Maggie



Finally, the day of the interview arrived, and I had, as they said in some rather idiotic human resource circulars, 'dressed for success'. I once again asked my sisters for help, but this time I wanted their input on what would impress an older woman in the way of male attire. I had on a light brown 3 piece brooks brother's suit, gold and blue pinstriped pure cotton shirt, one of my Dad's coordinated silk ties from what he'd left at the house when he split to go live with his girlfriend. And just enough old spice to make the deal. If she showed up, I was going to be ready, damn it!

When the interview day came, and as I knew I would not be interviewing anywhere else, I simply took a seat next to the TSC booth and waited. Eventually, after my name was called, I got up slowly and moved to the 'hot seat' as my classmates were now referring to it. According to all those who went before me, this was the toughest interview in the room.

But as my interviewer came over and sat down in front of me, my heart dropped, it was a typically pointy-haired manager type, right out of the pages of Dilbert. The questions he was asking were hardly inspiring either, but eventually I got him turned around on his question list and started into some of my own. All of them about the projects I'd seen listed with their Systems Analyst Group, suddenly I saw him grabbing for an earpiece that I hadn't seen before, and stuttering into what must have been a microphone embedded within it.

"Um... yes ma'am... Thomas, I'd like to ask you a... of course... I-I w-will,"

Now the questions were getting tough... someone else was asking them, that was for sure, but could it be...? I was finally asked to leave all my contact information and told the interview was over, even though the pointy-haired manager guy simply got up in a huff and walked away. As I put my notes into my briefcase that I had left on the seat I was in before, I carefully glanced at the PC that had its camera aimed at the 'hot seat', and there under the main Skype screen was the image of a platinum-haired woman that had been frozen after she had logged off. I'm sure most people that watched me leave that day, saw the goofiest smile I'd probably ever had.

But as I was leaving the cafeteria, after my interview, I heard 'the voice' for the first time. It was usually below a whisper in volume, almost impossible to hear. I didn't know if I should mention it to anyone, the hearing of 'voices' probably wasn't a good symptom to have no matter what might be causing it. But it wasn't like I was having a conversation with an invisible partner either. Whatever I said was ignored, and each time it was the same man's voice... This time he simply 'said'...

"I Miss her so much,"

And it was followed by the fading sound of... well... sobbing.

***

It was three weeks later, just after our spring break that my guidance counselor walked up to me in the hall, wearing a big grin on his face.

"Huntsley?" he said to get my attention, "You'll be getting official notification by mail from the TSC human resources manager, but I just wanted to congratulate you, they picked you for their available summer intern position!"

"Wow!" I finally managed to spit out, "I-I just... ya know... wow... Thanks, thanks a lot."

It didn't take long for it to get around the school that I'd be going to work this summer for one of the top medical device manufacturers in the country. But anytime someone mentioned it, I only saw HER face... and I knew she was the only one for me. But I suppose I should have known that, like so many things in life, the level of difficulty in achieving any goal is directly related to its accessibility. And getting close to someone like Magdalyn was going to be an impossible task. Certainly figuring out a way to start was every bit the most impossible job of all. Frustrated beyond my young ability to cope... and for the first time since laying eyes on Magdalyn... I began to feel like I should quit trying to become involved with this beautiful older woman, just be glad to have a good summer job and let her go.

How ridiculous, an 18 year old high school graduate falling in love with a woman easily twice his age, and somehow expecting that love to be returned... because... why? Because I had a great body? Charming wit? High-class connections? I had none of those things... quite the opposite in fact, so what made me so bloody sure I would eventually catch her eye and make her fall in love with me? After a couple sleepless nights with such questions bouncing around in my head, I had finally made up my mind to give up on my pursuit of Magdalyn, until... it was back again, barely audible even in the dead quiet of my bedroom...

"She needs us Tom... She will need you... soon,"

"Ahhhggg!" I screamed into my pillow, "What the... who the FUCK ARE YOU!"

My head was pounding and if I wasn't sure about my mental stability before, I knew I was in serious trouble now... but again, no one replied. I didn't know if I even wanted a conversation, or would I be going further down some crazy rabbit hole? Let me see, what had the voice said... she would need me. She would need me for what? Who was 'she'? It must mean Magdalyn, but how would... could... she ever need me? And the final insult... nobody called me Tom except my father, it was the reason I always insisted on being called Thomas.

I released a loud sigh and threw my pillow across the room. I'd always wondered if there might be another personality inside of me trying to get out, but I'd always thought of it as a female. This voice was unfamiliar, but it was most definitely male. SO... I was losing my marbles thinking I'm hearing... who... God? Oh great... now I'm a prophet. Thinking about this was just making everything worse, but my bottom line hadn't changed, I was as deeply in love with her today as I was that first day I saw her... so I resolved to keep trying to get close to her.

***

What I discovered on my very first day as a summer intern for TSC was that Magdalyn had indeed been involved with my hiring, but that I would not be involved with any of the projects that she was responsible for. I had had so many plans and fantasies leading up to that day, and in an instant they were reduced to smoke and ashes. My boss would be the Dilbert-like pointy-haired boss, and I went home that night depressed and ready to quit the next morning.

But the other more important lesson I learned, was 'don't give up hope'. After getting into my cubicle at 8:30am, my boss gave me my daily list of crap that he wanted me to do, with his usual shit-eating grin. Then into my little space walked the goddess Athena, and she was talking directly to... ME!

"Good morning Thomas," she greeted me, "I wanted to just stop by and say welcome to the TSC team, and I'm sure you'll be a valuable part of that team! So thank you for accepting our summer position, and if you need anything... anything at all, my door's always open."

"Ma-Ma... Um... Ms. O'Shea!" I sputtered out, "Thank you... thanks so much!"

She and I went to shake hands, and we both received the largest shock of static electricity that either one of us had ever experienced. I actually felt my hand go numb!

"Oh my!" Magdalyn exclaimed, "What was THAT! I've never felt a shock like that before, we'll have to get someone in to look at this... that big of a shock could damage a computer! Are you alright Thomas?"

"Yeah," I replied, somewhat stunned, "I've never felt anything like it either, but again... thank you for this opportunity Ms. O'Shea."

"No problem," she said, continuing to stroke her shocked hand, she then picked up the list my boss had left, and with her eyes narrowing asked, "And please call me Maggie, okay? ...Um... Stephan? ...What IS all this?"

"Oh... well, ah... just his dailies," he replied, suddenly on the spot, "You know ...basics."

"...coffee... donuts," she chided my pointy-haired boss, "...laundry ...LAUNDRY? Stephan, would you please see me in my office for a moment... Thomas... please excuse us?"

My daily tasks were much more data processing related after that, and I didn't see much of my pointy-haired boss after that. But unfortunately... I never saw Magdalyn much after that either, and I began to realize that if I was going to make any of those fantasies I'd been thinking of come true, I would have to take the bull by the horns and start working on them myself.

I decided to go back to the internet, I had a much better connection from the office, and had the pick of the office servers to use for sending out spiders if I needed to search for information. So I decided to look for background on Magdalyn, to see if I could find any link between us that I might use to bring us closer. And immediately found another axiom to be very true. 'Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it'.

It had been a badly written search spider that returned it, and I nearly dismissed it. But as it was the only link that any of my searches found that night, I decided I might as well open it. It was a link to a story about a Philadelphia nightclub, or sex club, called 'Sisters' that had held an anniversary protest march after a raid in the seventies sent dozens of transsexuals to the hospital. There, in the story's lead picture, laughing at the head of the line, was a statuesque woman with platinum curls... Magdalyn. The link actually came from a Facebook account for someone named 'Sugar Crisp Nona'. A chill went down my back, Magdalyn had been involved with a sex club, a sex club used by transsexuals... now I knew I HAD to find out more about this woman, and voice be damned... absolutely nothing and no one was going to stop me.

That night, after getting home and having supper with the family, I went up to my PC and logged into my Facebook account. I sent a friend request to this 'Sugar Crisp Nona', and was surprised to get a response almost instantly! I started an IM (instant message) with her...

"Well, well Mr. Fancy Pants, lol!" she started.

"Hi Nona, I'm looking for information on someone that I saw in an article you had on your Facebook account, named Magdalyn O'Shea. Do you know her?

I assumed the 'fancy pants' reference was about my tuxedo pants I was wearing in my profile picture taken at the wedding of my oldest sister that spring. But now there was a long pause...

"Oh shit... you mean Maggie?"

"Um... yeah, could be, I'm writing a story on the 'Sisters' and I've seen her name come up a number of times in past stories." (I lied).

"Ha! If you gonna write about the 'Sisters', you have to write about Maggie."

"Well I guess you'd be a good person for me to start with then?"

"Honey, you're too cute to just text with... tells you what, you come on down to 'Sisters' tonight and we'll 'talk', okay?"

"Um... okay, how will I find you?"

"Oh you ARE cute... aren't you? Come up to the 3rd floor. Keep your ID out, you'll need to show it again, go past the first BDSM suite, and the lockers. The third pair of doors will open wide for your favorite fantasies baby... I'm here from four in the afternoon until two in the morning, and I'm never closed for business... see u soon!"

I couldn't imagine what I'd just opened myself up for, a sex club now, I was beginning to think that Maggie's eyes had pushed me over the edge, maybe I should just leave this alone, after all I did get to see her at work... but as it was, I knew I could never win her over. No... I would need to see Nona... and finally see how far down this rabbit hole I was really willing to go.

***

I'd had dreams and fantasies about bondage ever since puberty, and one in particular, always had me bound to a chair in a garden, dressed in a white dress with puffy sleeves, white lace gloves, white petticoats, hose and Baby Janes. I never told anyone about these dreams, always afraid of what they might think of me. I was bound with white nylon cord wrapped around my chest, tying me to the back of the chair, around my forearms to the chairs arms, then several loops were around my thighs, just above the knees. These loops were tightened with two smaller loops between my thighs that went around the main loops, and compressed them so that the loops could not possibly shift down my legs. Similarly, several more loops went around my ankles, with a couple smaller loops fed through my lower legs, and were compressing the ankle loops so that they could not shift off of my ankles.

Eventually all of my relatives would walk out onto the porch of this garden and shake their heads at me, some smirked, and some looked very worried. Finally after yelling like crazy, begging my parents, sisters, uncles and aunts, grandparents and cousins to let me go and un-tie me, one aunt finally shushed me, and when I kept yelling, pushed her lace hanky into my mouth and tied it there. One day I can't wait to tell this to a psychiatrist and see what they think, but for now, it's just a dream. On the other hand, my 'voice' was no dream, and that really had me upset.

After searching for information about this, I found that I apparently had a bondage fetish, and needed to be tied up for sexual gratification. Most of what I found on-line was pretty scary actually, but after reading more and more, I found a type of person that might help me deal with this fetish, called a Dominatrix. I knew I loved women... hell, if anything I loved 'em too much since it appeared I also wanted to BE one... but here was someone that dealt with all my 'issues' and if I was lucky, she may even turn out to be the Angel I'd fallen so hard for.

With High School graduation coming up in four days, I felt about as far away from a high school student right now as it was possible to be. And yet I was still just 18, and to get into any kind of club like 'Sisters' I would need to be 21. I still had a fake ID that my nerd friends and I had purchased for $100 a couple years back, to sneak into a state store (Pennsylvania's version of a liquor store) to buy beer, so hopefully it would work one more time. My beater car was in the shop again, so I would need to figure out how to get all the way into the city.

It was dark by the time I borrowed my Mom's car, explaining that I needed to go to the library for a project that was overdue. After about an hour of driving into Center City Philadelphia, I finally found the nightclub and parked in one of the many pay-by-hour parking lots nearby. As I got closer, all that was visible was a small neon sign saying 'Sisters' that sat above some steel double doors and a stained glass backlit window, of a blond haired woman, staring into the distance. I stopped and stared at that window for 5 minutes. It couldn't be... it just... well, the eyes... they... oh my god. But the other 2 'things' near this sex club's front doors were now staring right at yours truly. And they were not really the understanding type, being around 300 pounds, and looked like they'd eat guys like me for a late night snack.

"Yo!" The first one yelled, "Wake up dipshit! Wot da fuck ya tink yous doin' here?"

"Oh! I-I'm here researching an article on 'Sisters'," I lied again, "And I'm looking for someone named 'Nona'... I made an appointment for an interview."

"Yeah?" he said, "thought you was a cop or sumptin... but, now I sees ya... Got a ID?"

"Me? A cop?", I laughed along with him, "no way. Here, here's my... um... ID"

Probably the longest minute of my life ticked by as these two gorillas each looked over my fake ID... and after giving me looks that damned near buckled my knees, allowed me in. The one that hadn't said anything up until then, told me I could find Nona on the third floor, and then took me inside and showed me to the elevator. I was glad to not be a 'cop', and to still be alive.

As instructed by Nona, I kept my ID out and took the elevator to the third floor. When I got out, there was a small lobby, with restrooms, and hallways that seemed to stretch forever in either direction. I saw a large sign with a basic blueprint of the floor plan, and quickly saw where the rooms labeled BDSM were. Once I knew where I was going, I marched off confidently into the unknown. Being a Friday night, I figured on a large crowd, but so far, I had hardly seen a single customer. Finally I saw the first set of doors labeled BDSM, and just as I was walking by, they opened wide and allowed three people out, and all... every one... was stark naked! Having no choice, I followed these three for a ways until another set of doors came up labeled 'BDSM lockers' which the three naked folks walked into. Now I understood where everyone was.

Then, just as Nona had described, another set of labeled doors came up and in front of these doors was a small booth, and I would need to show ID to enter. But why this area would need extra protection, when the area I'd just passed by had naked people, and probably sex going on as well... I just was not really sure what was going on anymore. But as I stood there staring down the hall from where I'd just been, the woman in the booth woke me from my quiet contemplation.

"Hey!" she yelled over to me, "You'll need a pass for the Fantasy Room."

"Wha... what? Me?" I asked, "What's the Fantasy Room?"

"It's pay as you go mac," she explained as I approached closer, "but ya needs a pass."

Doing as bidden, I presented my ID, and received a hand stamp to let anyone know I was over 21 and could legally accept their 'services' I supposed. Once I opened the doors however, my high school days were officially over. Nothing I'd ever seen on any porn site that I'd ever had the guts to actually log into, came close to what I saw in the first minute of being in this room. My jaw was simply hanging on the ground, as I saw bodies... just... everywhere... and in every direction and position, to say nothing of state of dress and um... well, undress. And it was rare to see two people together having sex, usually it was either 4-5 fucking each other, or one person hanging from various hooks and chains, bound to a level I'd never thought possible, let alone logical. I hadn't taken more than 3 or 4 tentative steps to my right, when a voice saying something familiar, with a Jamaican lilt to it, came from somewhere behind me...

"Well, if it ain't Fancy Pants!" Nona exclaimed, "you are a pretty one... now... you be careful around here sugar, some of these gurls would eat a lovely little morsel like you... ALIVE."

I whirled around to see a woman sitting at a high top bar table. She was a tall black woman wearing a black sequined evening gown, more in time with the roaring twenties I thought as I walked up to her. Nona was an older woman, probably late middle-aged, she was formally dressed with 4-inch heeled black sandals worn over seamed black silk stockings. Now that I was closer, I was hit by the heady scent of French perfume. Her arms were covered by opera-length sequined gloves, and her right hand held the longest cigarette holder I'd ever seen, with 3 sets of pearls hanging under it. Although every nightclub and restaurant in Philly was no smoking, Nona sat on her 'throne' and puffed away as she pleased apparently. The smoke was making rings above her finely crafted afro hairdo. She seemed surrounded by admirers, was in her element, holding court over the throng having sex all around her... indeed she looked as a queen of sex should look.

"Hello Nona," I said in a most respectful tone, "So glad to make your acquaintance in person."

Taking her left hand and kissing it, reaffirmed my reverence, and seemed to have an impact. Her supporters were now beaming with pride at the respect she had just been paid, and her eyes were now sparkling with energy and playfulness. Little did I suspect how MUCH energy.

"Honey," she whispered in my ear, "If you lookin' for information... I'll only accept one form of payment... you got me baaad little one."




Mistress Maggie



Slowly she pulled her gown up, exposing a very well endowed cock and balls, it was just beginning to become engorged, beautifully framed by a delicate lace garter belt I had only seen in exclusive catalogs. Her package appeared it might easily reach 9 inches before it was finished. The techno-pop music booming in the background made the whole experience unreal. I found myself swallowing hard, not sure what to do... then reaching my decision instantly as each and every heartbeat made her cock get bigger. Her left hand began pushing on my right shoulder with a constant pressure, she made her needs known, and I was to suck her from my knees.

Once I was eye level with her cock, I touched it gently with both hands, then began stroking it back and forth, getting a long moan from Nona. The small crowd that had been casually gathered around her, now created a protective screen, keeping prying eyes out, and me in. But I didn't want out, certainly not yet, as I took a few inches of her down my throat, and licked as much as I could as it went down. Once again, she moaned...

"Oh you sweet, sweet... ugh," Nona was saying, "Sweet young cock sucka... Oooh... Fuck!"

I gave it everything I had, trying to remember every porn video I'd ever seen and reproduce it here for Nona if I could. She had rotated in her seat just a bit and had her hand on the back of my head, as she now began face-fucking me in earnest. Now the sensations we're mine as I felt my own orgasm building with Nona in control. She was pushing my mouth relentlessly down onto her 9-inch fuck toy. And she was telling me exactly how she was feeling as well...

"Yeah," Nona exclaimed, "you like being fucked, doncha lil' slut? Well, you keep me deep throated baby... that's right, breathe through your nose lil girl, that lovely mouth has other duties right now... sh-shit... gonna cum sweetie... gonna cuuuummmm!!"

I had been rubbing my own cock during most of this, and with a gut wrenching scream, I felt 3-4 streams hit the back of my throat just before she relaxed. I swallowed all that she gave before pulling herself from my mouth. I couldn't believe what I'd just done, or had allowed to be done to me, but now after I'd had my own orgasm, I fell to my hands and knees exhausted. A minute or two after that, I began feeling hands helping me to my feet, and saw the joy on her face, as I realized I'd also thoroughly enjoyed myself, and the small crowd that had surrounded us now gave up a thunderous ovation, whether for me, for her, or all of us, I wasn't sure.

"Oh baby," Nona purred, "Thank you... you know how to make an old Dom happy sweetie, that's sure. Hey Bobby? Take young Fancy Pants here down to the lockers and help him get cleaned up huh? We'll meet again in my private rooms... Bobby here will bring you back to me, okay sugar?"

As we went to get me cleaned up after cumming in my pants, I asked 'Bobby' a couple questions about Nona, and who she was in relation to the club. His answer was another head turner, she was a part owner now, ever since Maggie left. He explained that Maggie had bought the club a couple months ago, and made sure the 'regular gurls', or shemale Doms, that had been with the club for years would always be taken care of for as long as they lived, by splitting ownership into as many pieces as there were gurls. If one died, the others simply got a larger share, so no survivors would end up owning part, and thereby dividing ownership of the club, only the old shemale Doms that started with 'Sisters' could be owners. There were five, and Nona was one of these remaining original owners since Maggie bought it. Suddenly an obvious question came to my mind, and I asked it as non-judgmentally as I could, was Maggie a transsexual?

Bobby was a large black man in his middle/late thirties, whose Philly accent revealed his roots, and Trilby hat revealed his fashion sense. He laughed for a minute, and told me that was what nobody could really understand. Everyone knew she was a bisexual genetic woman, and yet she cared so much for these shemales, that she bought this whole place for 'em... quite a puzzle indeed. He went on to explain that no one had either enough of a reason, or guts for that matter, to ask her why. And it was such a popular thing, that no one really cared why either.

After getting cleaned up, Bobby took me back. Nona was now in a long silk dressing gown, and reclining on a divan in the corner of the room. Bobby asked if I needed a drink, and I asked for water, then he brought a chair over next to her for me to sit in, and left the two of us alone.

"Please," Nona motioned for me to sit next to her, "please dear, have a seat and tell this poor old woman how she can help a bright young thing like you... you say you want to write a story 'bout the 'Sisters'? ...Really?"

I blushed as I felt myself now trapped in my own lies. And just as suddenly as I had decided to suck her cock, I dumped everything on Nona, this time the truth... about how I'd first seen Maggie, how I'd fallen for her, and how I'd do ANY thing to be with her.

"Mmhm," Nona was again purring, "now we hearing the truth. I've known a thousand young ones like you, Nona always can tell. But you... you're not even sure... you don't even know your own mind yet... on your own gender... how you know Maggie what you wanting?"

I sighed as heavily as I ever have, because it was the only damned thing I really DID know... I wanted this woman, needed her, I would do anything for her... but... how to explain? At this point, my body performed the function that my mouth couldn't.

"Wha... are you... oh," Nona was staring at me now, "Oh my dear one, I'm sorry. Nona has gotten old and should have seen... tears always tell the best story, hmm? Alright, let me tell you what I can about Maggie, I don't think she would mind after seeing those tears."

And so she did, Nona was every bit as true to her word as could ever have been expected. It turns out that Maggie had been a 'Pro' Dominatrix in the S&M community in and around Philadelphia for a little over 11 years before she dropped out of contact with others in the community as Mistress Magdalyn. She was also a 'switch', which means she also used the services of Pro Doms in the area as a 'sub'. She had been brought into the community and learned everything she knew from a Mistress Cynthia, another Pro Dom, albeit a true 'top'. Nona didn't know much of her background before this, indeed nobody seemed to know anything, not even where she was from, went to school, nothing from her early life.

But the rumors... they were rampant... the one that Nona gave the most credence to, was that she had been kicked out of her family home, and was forced to learn the hard rules of the street at a very young age. And something... something terrible had happened to her that would not allow her to speak of that time in her life, to anyone. Nona spoke in hushed tones about the few times she had seen Maggie show real emotion during an S&M session, explaining it as an almost religious experience. Finally, she explained her later years, becoming what can only be described as a den mother to the various Doms in the local scene, she always would make sure any Dom that ran into health problems was taken care of.

Suddenly one day Maggie got very ill, dropping out of sight, and not telling anyone. But she discovered one of her subs named Henry was the CEO of a huge medical company and when she finally told him, he hired all the best doctors that he could for her. Eventually she got better, some kind of a cancer they said... anyway, she and this CEO were married, he becoming her 'pet' of course. But once again, just as it seemed she'd found herself some happiness, her Henry turned up dead in a hotel room somewhere, with the police saying it was a heart attack. So... for whatever reason, Maggie decided to buy 'Sisters' outright with her husband's life insurance, and gave it to all the shemale Doms that worked down here at that time...

"Believe me," Nona finished after a long sip of water, "the name Maggie is said with great reverence in this building, if they ever come up with a saint of Dominatrix's, I know a lot of folks who will insist Maggie's name be placed first on the list, ha-ha!"

I clicked my pen shut, and folded my notebook closed. Then looked at the woman who had given me all of this information, as I stood up, leaned into her, and kissed her gently on her lips. The tears welling in my eyes were something hard to define, I don't know if I could explain what they were all about, but I knew how they got there, and was determined to use that emotion to get closer to the woman I'd fallen so hard for. As I turned to go, I got one more question.

"And so little one," Nona was asking, "now that you know these things about Maggie... was it worth your effort finding it?"

I turned my head to give her my biggest smile, and with tears rolling down my cheeks... I knew that they gave her all the answers she needed.

***

I spent the week after graduation trying to come up with a way to somehow let Maggie know that I knew her background, and convince her to take me as a sub. Two major problems came up immediately, first I'd somehow have to make sure she knew I was not a threat of any kind, otherwise I could end up in the bottom of some river somewhere, second I'd have to convince her to become something she'd already given up, a Dominatrix!

I studied this problem for weeks, in every formulaic way possible, and could not come up with a solution. I would finish my regular work, then start pondering how to go about this huge task I'd given myself. Eventually though, I found a few people who, while they had no idea of Maggie's Dom and sex club background, knew quite a lot about what had happened after she'd been married to the former CEO of this company.

After Maggie got over the pancreatic cancer that nearly killed her, she became fascinated with the science behind some of the drug treatments she had been given, as well as the devices that helped to give it in the right dose and the right time. She crammed 4 years of pharmacology into 1 and her husband eventually hired her to be his development group's director. Apparently, at some point within the next 2 months, her husband had turned up dead in a hotel room, and no one even knew what he was doing there. After his death, there was a take-over bid for the high tech company he'd worked his whole life to build, which Maggie was fighting. Now it seemed she was not only fighting for their company, but even her job. How was I supposed to gain this woman's trust with all of this intrigue swirling around her?

On one particularly hot august evening, I found myself alone in my cubicle, with the kind of super-humidity you can only find in Philadelphia. I couldn't face going home to another sticky sleepless night. And just to top off my problems, my summer internship was drawing to a close as well. In total and abject frustration, I threw my pen at the cubicle wall, unknowingly scaring a poor cleaning woman who was dusting on the other side, I heard her give a loud gasp.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I didn't realize anyone was here."

"Aye... that's sure me boyo," she replied in a thick Irish brogue , "nearly scared me outta my everlovin' mind, that did!"

I smiled up at the very matronly looking woman as she seemed to smile back. Perhaps in her late fifties, there was a remarkable twinkle in her eyes and while she was small in stature, anyone could see the strong character underneath.

"Well, you seem in a fine state," she was saying now, "What's got such a young buck's nerves all in a bunch, eh?"

"Oh, I dunno," I replied, almost wanting to tell her, "um... it's... just a personal problem."

"Wot!" she exclaimed, "You should be out at a dance club... one of those um... discees... wait, discos! That's what I was lookin' fer... flirtin' with the girls, eh? Now... I have a niece..."

"Thanks," I laughed, amazed the banter had gotten so far, so fast, "but I know who I want... just don't know how to get her attention is all."

"Ah-ha!" she exclaimed, "Co-worker is it then?"

I shook my head up and down in a 'yes', and once again, my eyes welled up thinking I might never find a way for us to be together. And suddenly lightning struck, as I looked into this cleaning woman's eyes... and then her chest, where a nametag hung that I could barely see.

"Wha... what's your name?" I asked in a hushed voice.

"Oh dear... it's Maggie," she replied while adjusting the tag, "Damn thing's always falling off!"

"So Maggie," I was standing now, as something seemed to have pinched me in my very soul, "if you were being pursued by a much younger man, a young man that knew he loved you. Yet you had to be careful of them, as they might be up to no good. What would it take to make you trust him enough to at least know he wasn't a threat, and that he might even be in love with you?"

I wasn't sure what exactly had come over me, I suddenly had complete trust in this cleaning woman to help me figure out a way to get closer to the love of my young life. For the first time I think I saw the incredible chances I was taking to find a way into this woman's heart.

"W-well I," she stuttered, "W-what do ya mean... how could you be up to no good?"

"Maggie, I need your help," I was trying hard to explain myself, "I've fallen in love with Maggie O'Shea, do you know who she is?"

"Oh, you poor lad," she cried, "of course, everyone whose worked here as long as me, knows Maggie O'Shea! Love is it? Are ya sure?"

I stared back at her, not knowing what else to say, was it so terribly crazy for me to have fallen in love with this beautiful older woman? My eyes dropped, along with a single tear...

"Alright," she sighed, "I shouldn't be doin' this... but you seem to have a kind soul, I can see that at least... here... tell ya what we'll do. I clean her office every morning, and wot I'll do is every morning, I'll leave a solitary flower in a vase on her desk. When you're ready to reveal yourself... that is... when she is just about out of her mind from wondering who's sending these flowers, all you'll need do, is walk up to her, and place one of the flowers in her hand... she'll be ready to know more about you by then, I guarantee it!"

"Really?" I could only stutter out, "B-but, well I mean... what kind of flower should we use?"

"Oh saints be ta..." she yelled up at the ceiling, then with a loud sigh, shook her head looking back at me, "and such a bright lookin' lad too! For an Irish lass... an O'Shea... a wild Irish rose? Why... what else? A rosebud, me darlin'!"

***

After two weeks of having a fresh red rosebud placed on her desk every morning, the whole thing had hit the water-cooler circuit. Apparently, Maggie (O'Shea) still had no idea who was leaving them for her. They even said one of the cleaning ladies was involved and that the director of development refused to have her fired when she wouldn't say who had put her up to it. The day after she was confronted, after a planted camera caught her placing the rosebud at her desk... Maggie the cleaning lady walked by my cubicle and smiled, then winked. That was our signal that it was probably a good time to reveal myself to her.

It just so happened that the next day was her secretary's birthday, and the whole development group was scheduled to go out to lunch to celebrate. Even better, the restaurant we were going to was the Smorgasbord (an Old Dutch term for 'all you can eat') which would leave many opportunities to get a few seconds alone with Maggie, and give her the rosebud, it would be up to her what happened after that.

A sultry august morning was beginning to feel the sun's true heat as the development group all gradually made it inside the air-conditioned Smorgasbord. We were all eventually seated, after which we ordered and received our drinks, then had a toast to Maggie's secretary Janie, being one year older. Soon enough, people were disappearing to grab platefuls of food and bring them back. Maggie seemed disinterested and ended up alone at her table, obviously concerned about something, she was staring into her water glass.

Walking back from getting some frog's legs, I took my chance.

"Here Miss O'Shea," I said quietly, always using her last name and Miss as a sign of respect, "I found you some frog's legs, didn't you say you wanted to try some?"

I used the plate of croaker appendages to distract her, placing a rosebud in her water glass.

"Thomas!" she cried, "I said I'd NEVER try them, not that I wanted... oh never mind!"

I sat down properly dejected, and she finally laughed at me, giving me the most radiant, beautiful smile I'd ever seen in my short life. That seemed to bring her mind back to the party, and she began picking up her water glass for a drink. But spotting the small flower floating where before there had been none, she yanked the glass back from her lovely lips so hard that its contents flew everywhere. Her eyes became riveted on the rosebud... then they narrowed... and then I got a look that I would remember forever... it scared me that much. Ever so slowly, she took the rosebud out of the glass, and began twirling it between her thumb and forefingers, all the while watching me without ever blinking once.

Eventually I saw her coming to a decision... she had realized what she needed to do, standing up and leaning over towards Janie, she said a few words into her ear and reached down for her handbag. Pulling out her wallet, she handed her a company credit card all while continuing to stare at me. Closing her wallet and placing it back into her purse, she quickly looped the purse's handle over her forearm and walked over towards me.

"Mister Huntsley," she said quietly, emphasizing the 'mister' in her beautifully low and sexy voice, "I think you and I need to have a talk... care to join me?"

Time seemed to slow down, all the activities around me were still occurring as before, but it felt as if my heart was going to beat itself right out of my chest. A serious chill hit my spine as I stood up and carefully avoided her deadly gaze.

"Y-yes Ma'am," I somehow managed to squeak out, "I believe I owe you an explanation."

There was a glass exit door nearby that opened onto the back patio of the restaurant. Under better conditions, the large patio area was used for open dining. But this late in the summer season, nobody used it, nevertheless it was still under some shadow this morning and Maggie walked to a secluded area with a concrete picnic table and chairs. It was far enough from the main dining room windows so we could not be seen, but still just cool enough that we wouldn't melt in the noonday heat. Maggie dropped her purse on the table, pulled a chair out where she wanted... no, make that REQUIRED, me to sit, and sat down next to me.

"Alright Thomas," she said enigmatically.

Indicating with an underhand movement that I should continue to explain myself, she paused. But then, after a moment of confusion, where I suddenly decided I needed to be elsewhere, she once again spoke... this time much more clearly.

"Do you have ANY idea the upset you've caused?" she exclaimed, "Well... DO YOU?!"

Somehow, I managed to swallow, and found enough courage to begin explaining.

"Y-yes Ma-am," I started saying, "I know... I kn-know a lot more about you... y-your past that is, than you probably know... um, I know"

That 'look' was back again, a look of death, certain death, at which she seemed to be an expert. But now that I'd started, there was no turning back, so I sighed, feeling the small loop of cool leather in my pocket... it was hard to start talking again, but it had to happen, it just HAD to.

"P-please Ma-am," I began again, "I... I've found you beyond attractive, almost irresistible, ever since the first day I saw your picture on the company website. It made up my mind as far as which company I wanted to work for, and then when I knew you had taken a special interest in me during the interviews... well, I just knew I wanted to know more about you."




Mistress Maggie



Maggie was shaking her head now, as if she wasn't quite ready to deal with the whole topic of our having a 'relationship' of some kind, and certainly not with an 18-year-old summer intern.

"Thomas," she replied, "Y-you can't misinterpret my..."

"Oh no Ma-am!" I interrupted, "I was sure about what I'd seen during the interview... I just didn't understand what we might have in common... you know... to make me feel so very close to you at this point. So I... I did some internet searches. And that was when I found Nona."

Maggie's face suddenly went ashen white. Nothing could have prepared her for the name of the person I'd just spoken of.

"Are you alright Ma-am?" I asked surprised to see such a stunned reaction.

"N-Nona?" she repeated, "B-but how... how could you..."

"Yes Ma-am," I explained, "Nona... it was just one of those weird chances, I'd transposed a couple characters on one of the spider searches, and it found an article, long removed from the news site where it originated, but she copied the entire article into her Facebook account. And she had stored it with the title's text transposed, which is how we met, you might say. Um... anyway, the article had a picture of you in it and..."

"Y-you m-m-met?" Maggie now seemed to be stuttering too.

"Certainly," I replied, "Well, it just seemed to be the fastest way to find out more about you, so I went over to 'Sisters' and interviewed her. Ma-am? Would you like me to get you some water?"

For once, Maggie seemed very different, her shoulder's had slumped, eyes glistened, and I noticed she was simply staring at her hands in her lap.

"T-they said they could remove everything... my God..." she was mumbling.

Now suddenly, her eyes returned to me, but it was a very different look. Confused. I began to get up to get her some water, as her change of attitude was starting to freak me out.

"STOP!" she commanded, which I followed immediately, "Wha... What did Nona tell you?"

I didn't reply for a few seconds, trying to take the most relevant thing she had said and repeat this back, so she could be convinced I'd really seen her.

"She said," I replied, "If they ever come up with a saint of Dominatrix's, I know a lot of folks who will insist Maggie's name be placed first on the list."

I could actually feel the quick intake of breath that came from deep within her, and began to see another change, a very surprising one, in the way she looked at me... as a friend.

"Thomas... I," she was stammering, "But... my dear young man... why? Why have you...?"

I knew it was time to truly expose my need, to show her my obedience and love... forever.

I pulled the collar from my pocket. A black kidskin leather dog collar, holding it for her just above my neck, I collapsed into complete sublimation mode. Falling onto my knees, then bowing directly in front of her, I placed my face barely an inch from her shoes, while continuing to hold the collar over my neck, in the vain hope she would accept me as a supplicant... of any kind.

It was hard to see what Maggie was doing exactly, but by her vocal intonation, I could sense several layers of emotion play out.

"Thomas! Get up!" She hissed, trying not to yell and cause a scene, "Thomas... I'm not going to repeat myself... get up... GET UP do you hear?"

Of course, at this point, anyone involved with BDSM knows there are only two outcomes from this 'collaring' request on the behalf of the supplicant. The Dom will either take the collar, and locking it upon the supplicant's neck, accept their new acquisition, or can simply walk away and ignore them, refusing their request. Within a few seconds, Maggie knew that I knew this.

She reached her hand towards the collar... at first it seemed she would just yank it away and throw it across the patio, she was so angry! Then a serene calm came over her face just as she reached it. Giving a long sigh, she carefully took the collar from my hands, and after what seemed like an eternity... I heard the snitch of its lock, as Maggie enclosed it around my neck!

In a very bold and unwarranted move, I looked up into those gorgeous sapphire blue eyes, tears now streaming down my face... and thanked my Mistress... YES... MY MISTRESS! She looked down at me and gave me the most beautiful smile that would change my life forever.

"Now," my Mistress said, "Get your butt up and into that chair in two seconds, or you'll never be able to sit again!"

I hastened to obey, jumping back into the seat I'd just a moment before inhabited as a nothing to this Goddess, and waited for her next instructions.

"And Thomas?" she questioned, "You have my permission to remove your collar. I will select something later that you may wear in public, for now do NOT wear that collar in my presence unless I specify it, understood?"

"Yes Mistress!" I replied, slowly removing the most cherished thing I owned.

"And one more thing," she continued, "Continue to refer to me as 'ma-am' when in public as well, okay?"

"Yes Mist... er, Ma-am," I said.

"Now mister," she said with a most determined look, "I figured this was the best and fastest way to get some answers, and you better start giving them... QUICKLY!"

"Yes Ma-am!"

"You've gone through ALL of this," she continued, "To try to get me to be your Dominatrix, right? Well, now I wanna know WHY little one... WHY!?"

I began at the beginning, explaining my long need to cross-dress, and linking that to her experience with transsexuals. Then went into the much harder discussion of my bondage fetish and how her links to BDSM seemed to give us those things in common I was looking for. After talking for some time about me, she seemed to be shaking her head back and forth. Finally, she stopped and began staring at me, and I would swear she was looking directly into my soul... as if... well, as if she expected to see someone else.

"Alright little one," she said in a voice barely above a whisper, "But know this, and it's not an option... when it comes to your cross-dressing, bondage, sex of any and every kind... you do NOTHING without my express consent. You will remain celibate and chaste until I deem you worthy of performing these sex acts... do we have an agreement?"

It was obvious her demeanor had returned, the powerful Goddess I'd first seen was back, and it brought my chills back in greater numbers.

"Yes Ma-am," I replied, "I will always defer to you in all matters of sexual conduct."

"Now, as to the rest of our contract little one," she was saying, "I'll be in touch with you as to when and where we will meet for our sessions. When I contact you with specific instructions that we will meet, you will have your collar on for our session at ALL times, unless I specify otherwise. And my dear... these sessions are NEVER optional, and you won't enjoy being tardy. You are NEVER to speak without being spoken to, unless you say, 'Mistress may I speak' or unless I've given you permission. You will NEVER touch me unless specifically told to, and most important, you must respond to any instruction or command I give immediately, to refuse will be considered a breach of discipline and may be dealt with most harshly, MOST harshly!"

There was absolutely NO doubt in her meaning and I had to swallow hard to keep myself from losing every bit of physical control I had, right in front of her.

"Oh," she continued, "One last thing... SSC... if you haven't seen this before, look it up, and understand it, it stands for Safe, Sane, and most important, Consensual. You will have two safe words, 'White' and 'Red'. White will mean a 5-minute break, in case you are feeling a little overwhelmed. There will be two Whites allowed per session. Red, on the other hand, will stop our session completely, I will leave, and you will never see me again. If you cannot speak, jerking one leg will mean White, both legs will mean you want to give the Red safe word. Now... do we have a consensual agreement Thomas?"

"Oh, yes ma-am!" I responded enthusiastically.

"Very well," she said, "In that case we should probably get back to the party, or I guess if the party is over, work. Unless you have something otherwise important to add...?"

"No Ma-am!"

***

And this, my dear reader, brings us full circle, back to where I left us. In my hotel room on a cold, blustery, September morning. She had indeed setup a session, and this was to be our very first one. Watching my Mistress pacing back and forth after dealing with a run-of-the-mill hotel thief, Maggie had now called the person she was looking for with Janie, her secretary.

"Hello?" She asked, "Paul?"

"Oh Paul," she continued, "It's so good to talk to you again... yes... a very long time. Paul... we've had a run-in over here at the Malvern, and I wondered if you could look into it for me? Yes... Well, we were attacked by a thief inside our room. Yes, that's right, he was dressed as a bell captain I believe. Oh, no Paul... you understand, my work makes reporting these incidents problematic... all right then... we'll meet for dinner, say six-ish? Perfect. See ya then hun!"

My Mistress walked back over to where I was sitting and after a long hug, explained...

"Thomas," she began, "Suddenly... things are making more sense to me... many things. And I think we need to start dealing with your need to cross-dress. I have another room under my name, only this time... we'll put a little more muscle at the door. Now collect all of your things from this room, and we'll move our session over there for a while."

While I was getting all my male clothes into the suitcase that my Mistress had left for me with the female clothes I was wearing, Maggie made one more call, but I only heard bits and pieces of that conversation, something to do with 'strong enough to punch out an elephant'. As I finished my chore, I came up next to Maggie and sat down on the bed once again and looked her straight in the eyes, making her understand I had a problem.

"Mistress, may I..." I tried to ask quickly before she interrupted.

"I know, little one," she somehow managed to interrupt anyway, "even though you've done an excellent job dressing yourself as a female, and you have by-the-way... you don't feel you can pass right now without makeup, and therefore you're worried leaving this room dressed as you are... how'm I doin' so far?"

My nod and blush gave her the answer she was looking for.

"Don't worry," she continued, "my room is just down at the end of the hall, and I would never do anything to humiliate you, good enough? Oh, here let me get that off for you, just in case."

I once again acknowledged her with a simple smile, and a nod. Then she rummaged around inside her huge leather coat, producing the keys for my collar, she quickly unlocked and handed it to me. After that, she got up, made a quick walk around the suite to see if I'd forgotten anything and once she was convinced the room was 'clean' of our belongings, picked up her own canvas bag and motioned me to follow her. Once in the hallway, we were about halfway to her suite door, when the elevator doors dinged open, expelling two familiar men, each checking their surroundings carefully, and taking positions on each side of her suite's doorway. As we reached her suite, the closest man spoke up.

"G'afternoon Ma-am," he said, then recognized me by raising his eyebrows and winking!

Maggie smiled back to me as she swiped her card across the reader, unlocking the door as she pushed it open. Then with an 'after you' motion of her arm, I passed by her, and into the room.

"Thanks boys," She said to her two 'Sisters' bouncers, "We apparently have some nasty folks wandering around hotels these days... if any of them attempt to enter my rooms, or even look like they don't belong here... bag 'em first... ask questions later... we clear?"

"No problem Maggie," The first one again responded, "It'll be a privilege!"

A moment later Maggie walked in behind me, but I never noticed. This was sheer opulence! I thought such rooms only existed in places like Las Vegas, or New York...

"This is," she began, "or rather was, my 'regular' suite at this hotel, and I have had similar suites specially built in hotels located all over the world."

She dropped her canvas bag in the hall and we moved into what appeared to be a living room roughly 30 by 18-20 feet in size. At one end was the largest salt-water aquarium I'd ever seen outside of Sea World, taking up one entire wall. In it were small manta rays, sharks and enough other varieties of salt-water fish to keep any botanist busier than a one-armed paperhanger!

"C'mon," she said, smiling at my stunned expression, "I'll give ya the nickel tour."

There was a full kitchen, not anything resembling some 'en suite' kitchenette... Oh no... this could have been used by any 4 star professional chef, and looked as if it had... recently. The dining room was off to one side of the kitchen and looked out onto the golf course about 3 floors down. On the other side of the kitchen was an office with a large desk and extensive computer system. Multiple 24-inch touch screen monitors were on computer desks along the far wall.

"I imagined you might be most interested in this room," she said with a chuckle, "but I suppose I could be wrong? ...c'mon ...c.mon little one!"

Slowly coaxing me from the various computer systems, we went down a small hallway that curved around gradually to the left. Opening the first door that came up on our right, she stepped inside. Peering around the doorway, she snapped on the lights, making me flinch for just a moment. It was a beautiful bedroom suite, with a central living section, then two bedrooms on each side and an adjoining en suite bathroom.

Leaving that set of visitor's bedrooms, we moved farther down the hall, to a set of hand-carved double doors that must be the master bedroom. As she walked into this area, lights turned on silently, coming up to their programmed luminance gradually, in a stunning display of technology. Easily as large as the living room, this bedroom suite had the largest waterbed I'd ever seen, taking up about a eighth of the back wall, and surrounded by huge picture windows on either side. Off to our left was a single doorway for the master bedroom's bathroom. On either side of the bathroom door were huge walk-in closets. With a small nook built into "hers" that had a make-up station, with special track lighting all around the make-up mirrors built into the walls. 

Walking into the master bath area was another wild experience. Toilet and bidet sat up front, then a huge, four-person Jacuzzi appeared on the right behind a low glass block wall. Another toilet was around the corner from the tub, then most of the last half of this huge room was dedicated to a walk-in shower that was beyond description, having a voice activated shower-jet system that was pre-programmed for various experiences. Amazed at the technology once again, Maggie now gently pried me away, and led me to another door. This was set back, had a fingerprint lock and... in an all white bathroom... was painted a striking pink.

"Through this door, " Maggie was saying, "is the playroom... and although we will visit this room rarely, when I tell you to come here, you must go immediately, open the door and access the room of your own free will. If you don't feel you can do this... it will be the same as saying your 'Red' safe word... the session stops, and you must leave. Do you understand little one?"

"Yes Mistress," I whispered.

Maggie brought my hand up to the lock mechanism, allowing it to 'learn' my prints, at which point it asked me my name. Surprisingly, Maggie brought a small piece of paper up to my eyes that had one word, a female name... Tammy. Once I spoke the name, apparently my name, the door beeped that it had learned it... and linked it to my fingerprints.

Suddenly the door opened with a slight whoosh that suggested a change in air pressure, and triggered another chill down my spine. Again, as with the master bedroom, the lights gradually increased luminescence over a couple seconds, showing what was obviously the scariest, as well as the oddest, room in the suite. Although extremely modern in its 'furniture', it could only be described as a dungeon. There were no windows and it was obviously soundproofed with my high heels barely making a noise on the soft tiles under our feet.

Once a few steps in... I stopped... and ever so slowly started to walk backwards. I knew I probably did NOT want to be here. The images to support that feeling were everywhere... several chains hung from motorized gizmos in the ceiling, small barred cells, the size of one person, shiny chromed stands of varying types and sizes, all with leather strapping and all adjustable... Padded boards with more leather, and behind these, leather sleeping bags... but no zippers, these were all laced closed with padlocks at the ends.

As I stepped back, I found Maggie had already intercepted me, at first grabbing me fast to make sure the images were locked into my memory, she then flipped me around to face her, massaging my shoulders and neck. Once I'd turned, I saw two huge closets on either side of the door we had just passed through, with racks of clothes, mostly fetish latex, but other types as well. And finally, in front of the closets, were racks filled with sex toys, torture devices, and even surgical tools of every type and description. Seeing my reaction, Maggie gave me a reassuring smile.

"Quite a room," she was saying, "Do you remember our agreement little one? Now... you may speak, ask any questions you wish, but it will be the only time this will be allowed here."

"Yes my M-Mistress," I replied, my stomach turning backflips, "W-what will... why would... what's this room to be used for?"

"Very good question," she explained, "Think of it as an exploratorium... I don't think you remember our agreement we made that day at Janie's birthday party. Because it had little to do with anything in this room... remember what I said about consensual?" 

"Oh, yes... I remember now," I sighed hoping this was all just part of the tour.

"Well, also remember," She continued, "What I said about following my commands and instructions to the letter, or you would be disciplined? That, little one... THAT is what this room will be used for, at least as far as you are concerned... and you will need to give me reasons to send you here, won't you?"

Her eyes became much harder now, watching my reactions.

"Y-y-yes Mistress," I tried to respond, not exactly sure what she wanted, "I-I... I mean"

"Have you been celibate and chaste?" she asked.

"Yes Mistress," I replied.

"Very well," she said, sighing loudly, "This will be your last chance for the truth Tammy, have you remained sexually celibate and chaste as per our agreement?"

My eyes were tearing, I couldn't tell what she was wanting, of course I had, why ask?

"Alright," she now continued, "remember I asked and gave you your chance, of course if you have done as agreed, there's nothing to worry about... but if not... well, we shall see."

My knees were weak, and I hoped whatever test she had to prove or disprove my sexual behavior, was a valid and exacting one, so she could be sure I'd done as told. I was certainly hoping to never be sent here... ever.

"Come... Tammy," Maggie was saying in her soft low voice, "Its time."

I looked into those sapphire blue eyes and I knew I was hers, for what else can love be built upon but trust, and I knew I trusted her, as long as I could look into those eyes and see that trust, I knew I would always love this woman. We left the dungeon... or playroom as she called it, and walked back to the master bedroom. She steered me around to the little make-up nook, and had me sit on one of the round stools in front of the mirrors.




Mistress Maggie



"I can't have my beautiful Tammy worried about her make-up... that won't do." She said.

She began opening up various hidden panels within the make-up table, pulling endless sets of brushes, tubes of components, bottles, and even whole trays of make-up... and then placing them onto the non-moveable areas of the table.

"Now," she was asking, after a short sigh, "Let's start with a quick clean up shall we? You've been through a lot today haven't you baby? So first, we clean up all the crud, left by the crud."

Within 15 or 20 minutes, my transformation was complete. A classic beauty, with professionally applied highlights and colors stared back from the mirror.

"Well my little one," Maggie was brimming with pride, "What do you think, huh? Better?"

"I... I look... my God," I was saying something, but my head wasn't quite up to speed, "My God Mistress... I look beautiful! Oh... oh, thank you Mistress... thank you!!"

"Now, time for you and I to get some lunch," she said, "Then, I think... you need 'the works'... Yes, most definitely, every woman should get the works at least once in her life."

"What?" I asked, with a slight tremor in my voice, "Mistress? What does 'the works' mean?"

"You need your hair styled Tammy," she laughed, "That's all, and we'll make sure you get every service the local beauty parlor has available... That's 'the works', the mysteries of the beauty parlor, something every woman needs to experience at least once... okay?"

***

After having me spend over two hours at a local hair & nail salon, Maggie had me emerge much as a butterfly from a caterpillar. A full laser hair-removal treatment would guarantee I'd never see body hair for over a year at least. My shoulder length dirty blond hair had been completely and remarkably transformed into a bright, sun-drenched, surfer-blond color, and with the help of hair extensions, now easily reached down to the middle of my back. It was also 'puffed out' with the help of volumnizers, and was so soft it screamed female all by itself. My fingernails had been professionally trimmed and polished in the French style, and they had given me a complete podiatry session, massaging my feet, cleaning and shaping my toenails, as well as polishing them the exact same red that they had used on my fingernails. Once complete, the overall image that greeted me in the salon's mirrors was beyond exciting, I was stunned into another world.

Another couple hours, at least, was spent in some of the nicest shops in Center City. Where she proceeded to buy me a new wardrobe, but this time custom altered to fit me perfectly. It had taken the whole bellboy staff of the Hilton to bring it up to her suite of rooms. After hanging up and storing all of the feminine clothes we had purchased... I was sitting on the waterbed in Maggie's bedroom, considering all the things that had happened to me over the past 24 hours.

"Well well," Maggie was closing the last open drawer in the walk in closet, "A fashion upgrade for my little girl, hmm? Prada, Armani, Ralph Lauren, Gucci, Bebe... even Chanel! Alright sweetie... up and into the bathroom with you, we are going to dinner to celebrate tonight and you need to get cleaned up after all that hard shopping... let's go!"

"What are we celebrating Mistress?" her infectious excitement now showing in my voice.

"Why you, of course," she said as if I had just lost my mind, "Haven't you heard the latest water cooler gossip? You and I are an 'item'... or something. And we can't disappoint our fans. So hurry up, get yourself cleaned up, I'll have everything laid out for you to wear when you finish."

I began stripping out of my clothes and dropping them in the laundry basket, when it really hit me as to what she had said. Suddenly I realized the impact that I'd caused, I was terribly excited to hear we were thought of as a couple. Then rode that high into the low of realizing how public my life was about to become by simply becoming involved with hers. As I jumped into the huge showers, I finally decided that this was what I'd always wanted, what I'd worked so hard to make happen. No matter what the down side might entail, I was going to make this work.

I emerged from the shower without getting anything from my neck up wet, and patted myself dry as instructed, I moisturized my body and tucked my towel around me under my arms and walked into the bedroom. Maggie had laid out my 'dinner clothes' as she called them, then I saw her emerge from the other walk-in closet as I was, wrapped in a towel, and about to take a shower.

"Good girl Tam," She exclaimed as we passed each other, "Now, start putting on your dinner things and when I get out of the shower, we'll do our make-up together."

As I approached the bed, I saw a magnificent selection had been laid out, and began dressing, fortunately, Maggie had a very quick shower so she was able to come back and help me with some of the new things we'd purchased. Starting with my breast forms. Once she applied the correct amount of adhesive, she carefully lined them up by eye and placed them onto my clean chest, I had to then lie down and hold them in place until the adhesive dried. Maggie brought out a little tray of make-up especially made for blending the breast forms into my chest, and when she was done, I don't think even a coroner would have known they were fake.

Now I stepped into my la Mason dark blue corset, with light blue silken insets and lace demi-cups. Hanging onto one of the bedposts for all I was worth, she laced me in and tightened it to a point I was sure could be defined as torture, but all she did was giggle as I complained. Now that I had reduced my waist by inches, we moved on to stockings. Maggie taught me the right way of opening a package of hose and putting them on. I had managed to figure it out pretty well on my own from those in my sister's supply, but she showed me how to do it much quicker. So I put on the Dreamgirl fishnet lace seamed stockings she'd gotten me, and stood up to straighten the seams, which impressed the heck out of her. Then I attached each of the corset's suspender loops to the stocking tops. Climbing into the dark blue satin gaff panties that went with the corset, and after tucking in my privates, it seemed like we were making real progress.

Indicating I should come over to the make-up table again, she sat me down and started various touch-ups that she felt were needed, although she didn't want to alter the image that the salon had so carefully crafted that afternoon. When she thought I was perfect, she dismissed me to finish my dressing as she got ready herself. Now I was just beginning to understand that she had stocked all of my clothes in one side of the huge walk-in closet, and that all of her clothes were in the other. The implications, while making my heart race, also were more than a little scary.

The dress she had laid out for me was a Dior creation, a dark blue sleeveless cocktail dress. It had a glass-beaded mid-section and a deep Vee'd front that showed off my cleavage to an amazing degree without actually showing anything naughty. With a high slit, it wouldn't be terrible to walk in, but my Mistress seemed to know just how to make sure I was as controlled as possible, and would be as effeminate as she could provide for.

Once again, she had dressed infinitely faster than I could, emerging from her closet in a black lame' pantsuit with a sequined top under the jacket and an absolutely stunning chocolate diamond necklace that could probably purchase this hotel. She had also gone through the 'works' and although I would NOT have believed it possible, was even more gorgeous than I'd ever seen before. Now, lustfully staring at her Protégé, she calmly walked over to help me finish.

"Mmm," she purred, "Here let me help with that zipper!"

As she pulled the zip closed, I felt the dress compress around me, embracing my body in a silken cocoon, with its cool sensations so rich, and so exotic... even erotic, that it nearly made me take leave of those senses it had triggered. Taking a couple steps, I found the dress restricted me to a very small stride, and I knew even that would probably be shortened as well.

As I was looking down, Maggie touched her right-hand index finger to my jaw, bringing my face up to meet hers. My look was there again! Holding my head gently between her hands, she kissed my lips softly as my world began spinning wildly out of control. Reaching out to hold myself up by her shoulders, Maggie responded by running her right hand down my silken back, and bringing her left under my arm and up so that they met in the middle of my back. Now I felt the most passion I'd ever experienced as she held me tightly and kissed me hard, pushing into my trembling mouth, past my teeth, and leaving me with a soul-searching moan on my burning lips. Once she let me go, I was struggling with all my emotions, as I sat back down on the bed.

Maggie brought out my shoes, dark blue open-toed 5-inch stiletto pumps with two little leather straps around the ankles. I carefully stepped into each shoe and attached the straps, then very slowly tried standing up. Of course, I had worn high heels many times, but I'd never really tried walking in front of other people before, and certainly nothing in this high of a heel! After a couple of close calls, I was finally able to walk around the room in them. But of course, it wasn't nearly good enough for my Mistress.

"Great, you're walking just like a guy in drag, now c'mon, and watch me." Maggie said.

"You see?" she continued, "you do 'heel-toe-heel-toe' like this... as if you're walking on an imaginary line, one foot right in front of the next."

Eventually, after about a 10-minute training session for my shoes she brought out a few jewelry items, Maggie had gotten me a few costume rings and some silver bangles for my wrists. She had also bought a multi-strand pearl collar that she explained would symbolize my regular collar when we were out formally, and also helped hide my small adam's apple. I had finally had my ears pierced that afternoon, and so I now added a pair of 3-inch silver hoop earrings, and with a spritz or two of Maggie's perfume, I was pronounced 'well dressed' and definitely female.

Walking in front of the bedroom's mirrors was now an experience in itself, as I had no idea who the gorgeous woman was that was looking back at me. Maggie walked up from behind me and wrapped her beautiful hands around my waist. She then placed her chin on my shoulder, and looked upon her latest protégé that was reflected in the mirror.

"You see my little one?" she asked, "Do you? ...you've wanted this your whole life haven't you? But all you saw was an impossible dream that was passing you by. Your sisters could, but you were different, weren't you? Well... not anymore, you're a lady now, you have a lot yet to learn... but you will, and you'll see just how good it can be... now, let's go to dinner!"

Maggie had also put together a small dark blue Gucci clutch for my make-up and ID, just in case I might have need of it, handed it to me, and we began to walk out the door hand in hand. Just as we got to the small table next to the door, I noticed a small clear plastic box with a corsage inside, and Maggie stopped in front of it, bringing me in front of her.

"Only one flower," she said, "worthy of my Tammy... don't you think?"

Of course, it was a gorgeous red rosebud, and framed by two sprays of angel's breath... my Mistress now gently adjusted the corsage above my left breast, and pinned it to keep it in place.

I believed that to be the happiest moment of my young life, but as it turned out, I had many experiences yet to go, and as long as Maggie would be there to guide me, I thought I could do anything for this woman, nothing she ever asked of me would be too hard.

Arriving at the hotel's 4-star restaurant, Maggie's face was enough to warrant extreme hustle and bustle on the part of the hotel staff. We were escorted to a picture window table overlooking the cityscape as the sun was just setting. We engaged in small talk and she ordered herself a cocktail and I asked for just a soda, not wanting to try my ID again, and hoping it might pass.

We were soon joined by the man she had called earlier, just after our run-in with the thief. Paul Fletcherd was head of security for the Hilton chain of hotels. About 6-foot 3-inches, he was every bit the strong, security guard type. What set him apart was a very fashionable dark blue saxxon wool three-piece suit, with white cotton shirt and silk tie, so we were almost a match. He had a handsome, slightly rugged face, short cut hair, and his lean frame was able to hide all 250 pounds of muscle well. He even had the kind of shoulders I had only dreamed about, in far away fantasies. He kissed Maggie's hand, and then mine, bringing about a feeling I hadn't expected, 'that' feeling... and suddenly my gaff was now struggling to keep me undercover.

He had a folder with him and surprisingly turned and began talking to... me!

"So," he began, "This is the lovely young lady that was so brutally attacked earlier?"

"Paul..." Maggie replied, "I'd like you to meet my new protégé, Tamara Huntsley."

"My pleasure," he said, "So glad to meet you Miss Huntsley"

"Oh...um, thank you Paul," I said, more than a little overwhelmed, yet in the best female voice I could muster, "It wasn't much of an 'attack' really... oh, and my friends call me Tammy."

My Mistress was absolutely beaming now as she saw me understand that she had picked out, not only my new nickname of 'Tammy'... but its formal equivalent 'Tamara'!. And when I slipped into my feminine voice, I had also slipped into my new persona, I really WAS Tammy.

Paul reached across the table and grasped my left hand between both of his and looked into my eyes to tell me how amazing it was to find a young woman with such strength of character that she refused to allow an attack to intimidate her. I knew it was corporate BS, if I didn't think it was a big deal, chances are I wouldn't sue for damages, but I loved staring into his eyes anyway. Funny thing was, he didn't pull back and even began stroking the top of my hand, and I was starting to really hate this gaff thing I had on, but it was probably all that would keep me from being discovered as a male if had to stand up right at that moment.

"Ahem," Maggie cleared her throat, finally coming to my 'rescue'.

"Oh... I, um... I have some pictures," Paul stammered as he gradually remembered why he'd come here, "Pictures... or mug shots basically, of the man that might have attacked you earlier."

Laying out four sheets of 11x8.5 paper in front of me, each page had six mug shots per page. Paul explained that he wanted me to take my time and see if I could spot the face of the man that was in my room, and had tried to attack me. I slowly scanned the 'rouges gallery' of faces in front of me and as I got to the fourth sheet, I paused. I also noticed a look pass between Maggie and Paul, but it was gone in an instant, so I ignored it. I looked again for a while, before I finally pointed at the first face on that page. There was no doubt in my mind, right down to the seemingly permanent smirk he always seemed to have... that was our thief.

Paul gave me a black marker and asked me to circle that face, making sure to ask me one last time if I was absolutely certain... I simply took the marker and circled the mug shot. He nodded and took the marker back, picked up his pictures and re-filed them into his folder.

"Thank you Miss," he continued, "Animals like this need to be put away, and unfortunately, as is the case here, they find ways of getting back out again, annoying good folks like you and Maggie. I'm so glad Maggie was there to help you this time, and I swear to you we will find this scum and with your help, put him away forever, so there will NEVER be a next time."

The cold look in his eyes gave me one last chill before Maggie spoke up.

"Well then Paul," my Mistress was saying, "won't you please stay and have dinner with us?"

A warm smile grew out of the hard, cold look he had been giving me, and he once again kissed my hand and accepted Maggie's offer, which brought me a long dinner fighting my gaff's restrictions, but I was still able to enjoy his company. At one point, he excused himself and went over to the bandstand to talk with the orchestra leader. By the time he returned to our table, they were playing a basic slow tune that was an easy two-step, as if he knew beforehand I couldn't really dance. He then asked me for the privilege of my company on the dance floor, and the next thing I knew I was in some Hollywood musical, being lead about the illuminated dance floor in this handsome man's arms.

Gradually he simply encircled my waist with those strong arms, pulling me tightly to him as I did much the same with my arms around his neck. I tucked my head into his chest and felt him lean his face down and rest on my head, lightly kissing my forehead as he glided me slowly around the dance floor. When I pulled my head up to look into his eyes, he pulled me up to his lips and we kissed deeply for what seemed like hours. Eventually our dance had to end of course, then Maggie asked me to join her in the ladies room, where she asked what I thought of Paul. At first, I couldn't answer, but then I looked into her eyes, blushed and smiled broadly. Maggie simply smiled back, nodding her head, as she always seemed to know my mind better than I did.

After coffee and dessert our 'celebratory' dinner came to an end, with Maggie and I finally saying goodbye to our chivalrous security chief, and retired to her suite. As we got out of the elevator, I noticed our 'watchdogs' had changed, with another shift taking the place of the first. And with Maggie once again briefing them to stay vigilant and capture anyone that didn't seem to fit or was being too nosey, then bring them to her immediately.

As we walked through her suite, Maggie indicated I should follow and we ended up at the little breakfast bar in the middle of the kitchen.

"Wait," my Mistress commanded, "I have something for you."

"Here," she said after returning from the 'fridge.

On the breakfast bar in front of me was a small glass full of a dark red liquid.

"W-w-what..." I was stammering again.

"It's a very mild stimulant, mixed with tomato juice." She said, "I would never harm you little one, and you've had a busy day... drink it down for Maggie now."

I was tired, and yet I knew we hadn't had our 'session' yet. Sighing once again, I knew I'd given myself to this woman, ultimate trust... isn't that what all the BDSM sites called it? It just didn't matter did it? I knew I'd end up drinking it, so why beat myself up mentally? Finally, I embraced my decision, and drank it down. It was tomato juice, good too!

Maggie smiled, then grew serious as she gave me my next instructions.

"Now Tammy," she said, "Take off your dress and jewelry, leave on everything else, including your shoes, put your leather collar on, and wait for me by my bed, understood?"

"Yes Mistress", I replied.

"And Tammy?" she asked quickly, "I wanted to give you some fun after that horrible experience you had this morning... but from here on tonight, all our agreements apply, if you want to ask me something, or say something, now is the time... if you want to back out, you may. But this will be the last time I will allow this... ever."

It seemed several years of my life flashed before me, but mostly it was the wonderful night that we'd just spent together. For that, I would allow her to do anything to me... and I knew that now.

"I am yours, my Mistress," I said quietly, "Forever & Always."

"So be it my little one," she smiled, then added, "I'll be in shortly."