Indian Girl Showing Her Pantyless Body

Our only disagreement was Markie. After that first year, thefirst indication that Mistress was starting to value me again wasthat she gave me a safe word. Up to that point, my safe word wasto ask to leave. During the second year, Mistress discovered thefemale in my soul and worked diligently to bring her out to play. My medium height (for a male) and my slender build, made me ideal(so Mistress delighted in telling me) for cross dressing. Shetrained me in cosmetics, in color coordination, in mannerisms andin voice inflection. She drilled me relentlessly on how to walk,how to sit, how to flirt. I was trained to play the vamp and thelady. She liked the vamp. My cautious soul also lusted afterthe vamp, but I pretended to prefer the lady.The blow up came when she decided to debut Markie publicly. I balked. I was dressed to the nines in a new, very pretty party dress andMistress herself had applied my cosmetics. I looked far betterthan I ever had before. Secretly, I was thrilled. A few minutes later she appeared and sat down and took out her books but never looked across at me. I was confused. I didn’t understand. How could she set up such a show one minute and pretend it didn’t happen the next??? The afternoon dragged on into dinnertime and finally time for bed. I looked hopefully across the alleyway but there was no light in her room. I left my blind half open and lay down. Half an hour passed before her light flicked on and I bounded out of bed. I could see her moving around beneath the almost closed blind and then the main light went off leaving only the bed light to cast shadows across the room. I looked at the mirror. Taped to the mirror was a piece of paper. On it was a cell phone number in large enough numerals to read from this distance. I copied it down and scrambled around in the dark for my phone. She picked up on the first ring. Before I could say hello she spoke. Her soft voice had a beautiful melodic sound to it. “Don’t say anything” she said..
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