Now She's angry and disgusted, realizing the hard tugs and twists that make you cry out are what you wanted to do,
and when she gloves into you the intake of breath and loud hurts coming bestially from deep in your throat and high in your vocal cords are really to be thanks at the end of things.
She's taken your money and smells you now, and when it's over She'll never want you around.
The minute you're caught, you're life is transformed and you are free to become the sissy, to become Nancy, which has been the dream all along.
A passage through deep shame first, the reinforcing disappointment and anger of Her, the ridicule of them, their shunning that fills the potent fantasies you now are freer to have
guilt-stained, defiant at the moment when your painted toes curl up in the sheers and your spunk thickens yet another pair of femmipants.