Though I already had my own panties in my mouth, I still took great pleasure in kissing every individual article of clothing, especially his underwear... as I put them into the washer. After I set off the washer my orders were to stand completely motionless until it was done. This was definitely the most meditative part of my day. I really got to think about what it was like to be a sissy slave. The joy I took from it, my place in society, how I got to this point, how people see gender. Where once she had professed to revere his potency and masculinity she now despised him for his weakness – though looking back even he could see her mockery as she fed the Vincennes ego on the myth of its own self-professed superiority. Where he went she had followed: relatively respectfully to begin with – in public, at least; the object of his strange infatuation –when she wasn’t belittling him- flattering his sense of self-worth and doing so in order to lower his guard and make his coming. More

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