The scream it elicited was musical; long, reedy, high-pitched. “Don’t worry, Susan, I just wanted to hear that scream unfiltered. I also wanted to...make sure you were properly warmed up for our next game.” I set the flogger down and picked up a thick candle. “At the end of the night, you’re going to go home. You’re going to make sure you walk home using the path I set out for you, staying underneath the streetlights as much as possible. I will; however, allow you some modesty, but you’re going. Let me show you how to use an iron."I was going to object that it was women's work as I looked myself in themirror, realised how I was dressed again and looked heavenward. Itwasn't exactly that I had forgotten I was dressed as a woman but morethat I was still thinking like a man. But I looked so unlike myselfthat I thought if she were to film me on her phone I might be able topretend I am not Bea, the woman on the screen, if I don't look or soundlike Beau."Yes, Rita," I replied trying to. More

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