I could hear her rummaging around my bedroom. I must have taken too long to get undressed as something hit my ass. "Hurry up, slave!" she yelled. "I a...n't got all day." Hurriedly, I shed my remaining clothes and knelt on the floor, waiting for what might cum next. My hands were roughly pulled behind me, and they were tied together. "Luckily," she said, "I carry a few necessary training supplies with me in my lunch-box." As I wondered what 'supplies' she was talking about, I felt her fingers on. All I wanted to do was to run my fingers through her silky and satiny panties that called to me. They had always called to me, you see, because I've been a crossdresser all my life. I've been putting on my mother's bras and panties and pantyhose and makeup on since I was a little transgendered boy. I always looked at Mom as she was putting on her makeup and felt a little exquisite pang of jealousy.I would watch how she would dress in her prettiest dresses and heels and as a little boy that is. More

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