If a man wanted her he worked for what he got, and what he got was straight sex, only missionary, if that. She was confident in her ability to control...her surroundings. Well, maybe not right now, what with the gag and the cuffs. What was she thinking? This was certainly no time for casual reflection. She was in trouble. She stopped crying. She wanted to keep on crying, but realized it wasn’t doing any good. She didn’t know where she was, and she had to find a way, some way, to get loose, get. I disposed of the remnants of mymale wardrobe. I no longer needed the clothes; they wouldn't have fittedme anyway as I had lost quite a lot of weight; and, most importantly, Ineeded the extra hanging space for my ever expanding female wardrobe! Lifewas rather good. Everyone in the village had come to accept that I wasvirtually a woman anyway; and those I worked with in the art world took mygender change in their stride.Then disaster struck! I had felt a bit under the weather for a few daysand. More

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