I tucked myself back in and zipped up, reaching for her again as she started to walk away. My fingers hooked around the band of her underwear. The lac... was soft. “Wait, Sophie…” She turned back to me, a sudden look of boredom crossing her beautiful features. “Shouldn’t we talk about this?” She shrugged, “It’s just sex, Tristan.” She tried to tug away but I pulled her back to me, grabbing both of her hands into one of mine. She sighed in annoyance and glanced at the door. “What?” I sat up all. Now I was dressed far more completely that I had ever thought possible, and was afraid there was more to come. I was right. I felt the few patches of hair remaining on my legs being carefully shaved off, and silky, satiny stockings drawn over my legs and secured to the garters at the bottom of the corset. A heavy soft, flowing skirt followed, laced to the contours of my corseted waist. One arm at a time, the softest sweater I had ever felt was drawn over my head and pulled into place. It fit. More

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