“Okay.”“Excuse me?”“As you wish, Coach Natasha.”“Much better.” Stacey had the feeling she was going to enjoy this. When she saw what...she was going to be wearing, she was sure of it. Laid on the bed were a pair of black latex panties that looked much too small for even her, a black lace body stocking that hid absolutely nothing at all, a collar, and one of those French maid’s headbands that nobody wore except to Halloween parties. She daringly closed the door to change, wanting to take the. She was dangling a pair of handcuffs from one hand. “You will not say that word unless you absolutely and desperately need to.”Marie’s hesitation. Trust. Promise of no harm. Handcuffs. Cinnamon. I put it together. It was our safe word. “Oh. Oh god.”“Marie, remove his shirt,” Sybil commanded.“Yes, mistress.”Marie immediately responded like a good slave girl, and took a hold of my shirt and started pulling it up. I lifted my arms, and as she pulled the shirt up over my head, that ‘yes, mistress’. More

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