1. Trust


    Date: 7/17/2015, Categories: BDSM, Shemales, Author: klammer, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    *underwear!&#034* &#034I never said a word about you going outside, did I? *Trust,* Lee! I told you to go to the living room, and wait. Dressed as you are, since I haven't told you to change. When you have done that, I will come tell you to do something else.&#034 &#034You said we were going *out* to eat,&#034 I shot back, breathing hard. I think I knew what happened to all that adrenaline. It had gone off, collected all its friends, and waited for an opportunity. I was trembling like a leaf, my arms and legs shaking, my vision blurring, and caught somewhere between utter screaming panic and bl**dy rage. &#034Are you gonna give me my clothes back?&#034 &#034I told you to go to the living room and wait, Lee. Now go to the living room and wait.&#034 She turned her back on me, and walked into the kitchen. I stood there, breathing hard, for about ten seconds, and then started struggling out of the ridiculous clothes. No way. Not any way. Maybe she could have shamed me into it, since I made such a complete mess of dinner, if she had told me I was going to wear women's jeans. I told myself that, and when I believed it, I told myself that I might even have worn a skirt, or something. Maybe she meant us to go to a drive- through, or something like that, but *damned* if I was going to try it looking like I'd escaped from the nearest brothel! By that time, dress, panties, and shoes were on the floor, and I was pulling off the stockings. Nancy reappeared in the kitchen door. She looked ...
    at me, then at the discarded clothing. I leaped for the table by the door, and snatched up the clothes there. Yes, men's clothes. No underwear. No *shoes,* damn it! I started to pull it on, anyway. &#034Are you leaving, then?&#034 she asked. Calm voice. Hint of a quaver? She took a breath. &#034You know that when you decide to come back, you'll have to put everything back on and go wait for me in the living room. Don't you think it would be easier to do it now?&#034 I had the pants on, and the shirt over my shoulders, if not buttoned. &#034I will *never* wear that shit again!&#034 I said, voice shaking. &#034You can *burn* it! I am not going to, to *blow up my life* just so you can prove how butch you are!&#034 That was supposed to be an insult. She smiled. Why did she smile? &#034You'll want your shoes, then,&#034 she said matter-of-factly, and started for the bedroom. &#034I suggest you take off your makeup as well. Your wallet is in my purse; I bought you a new one.&#034 I hesitated. This wasn't the response I expected. I almost started for the bathroom, but I figured the trap in that -- the door opened out, and she could barricade it, or something. Paranoid? Me? Instead, I dug makeup remover, kleenex, and a mirror out of her purse, and smeared the stuff off. I didn't find my wallet, though. The Doubter was back in my head, wondering if I was doing the right thing. I called the Committee into session, and pointed out the dress, and told them to shut that idiot up. She came ...
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