A Familiar's Fate Ch. 15

When I awoke the next morning, my hard-on had returned. No longer tucked between my legs, it made a little tent in my panties.

Once again, I attempted to will it down in vain. I shifted uncomfortably. Yet I tried not to move and awaken Karen, who still had her arm draped around me.

I failed. Karen stirred, and sat up groggily. "What's the matter sweetie? Why are you waking up?"

"Sorry," I whispered demurely. "I need the washroom." I lied.

She seemed sceptical, but she raised her arm to release me. And the moment I stood up, she saw the tent in my panties.

"Christine, what is that?" she asked crossly.

I looked down, seeing the erection which filled me with shame. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

"You weren't planning to play with yourself in the bathroom were you?" Karen seemed genuinely angry. And why shouldn't she, being awakened on a Sunday morning by her sissy with an erection.

"No mistress. I would never, not without permission." Truth is, I wasn't exactly sure what I was planning to do. I only wanted my erection to go down, and to escape this humiliation.

She continued to stare at me, judging if I spoke the truth. Then she released me with a wave of her hand. "Go on."

Ironically, I did feel the need to pee as I sat on the toilet.

Karen was sitting on the edge of the bed as I exited the bathroom. Still clearly upset. "Well if we're up, I'm going for a swim. Get cleaned up and dressed, and have breakfast ready for me."

"Yes mistress." I was clearly still in the doghouse, but at least I had an outlet for pleasing her.

I returned to the bathroom for a quick shower. When I re-emerged, she was gone This was almost a relief as I don't think I could tolerate more of her disapproving stare. Yet if I didn't want a reprise of that stare, or perhaps worse, I would have to hurry. I scurried to my bedroom to get dressed.

My timing was spot on. Breakfast was on the table as Karen walked into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and a loose cotton top. She smiled at me as she smelled the breakfast.

She ate in silence, and I didn't dare to disrupt her.

She finished with a contented smile. "That was good sweetie."

I smiled in return, relieved to be out of purgatory.

"Now what shall we do today?"

I shrugged. "Whatever you'd like." Perhaps that was a dangerous response. Yet after yesterday's journey in a dress, including the salon, I couldn't imagine anything more challenging today.

Clearly her mind was turning, wondering how she could exploit me. Fortunately her desire for a relaxing day off overrode her devious mind.

We settled in for a day of streaming movies and shows, and playing games.

At some point, she picked up the invitation card for my sister's commitment ceremony. It was still sitting on the coffee table from Friday night.

"This is not far off." She observed casually.

"Yeah, I did let my mail pile up the last couple weeks."

"You didn't sound surprised by your sister being... engaged, if that's the correct term. Have they been together for some time?"

"Elizabeth and Erica. Oh yeah, they've been together since high school. She's a few years younger than me, so a commitment ceremony was not really in the cards until now. Yet, it always seemed inevitable."

"High school?"

"Yes. It started as a childish crush. Eric carrying her books, and doing things for her. It proceeded with Eric firmly locked in the friend zone, and Elizabeth being one of the most popular girls in school."

"Erica's mother is also a member of the faith. So, this relationship was supported at every stage."

"They're not virgins are they?" The notion of maintaining one's virginity into their 20s seemed implausible to her, despite her happiness with my own inexperience.

"I assume Erica is. Being raised in the faith, he would no doubt have been informed, in no uncertain terms of a Familiar's duty to remain chaste." I used male and female pronouns interchangeably when discussing a fellow Familiar.

"And your sister?"

"No, she's not a virgin." I stated this in a matter of fact manner. Why would she be a virgin?

Unspoken was the obvious conclusion. If they were together all this time, but only she was having sex, then she was not faithful to him. Nor was she expected to be. It was a regrettable truth for all Familiars.

Mercifully, she let the matter drop, beyond some general travel plans for attending the ceremony.

I stepped away to wrap up some odd chores, but returned to her, relaxing in the living room as soon as possible.

I gave her a massage, but that was the extent of what one would term sensual.

However, as bedtime arrived, a certain tension returned. Karen looked at me, clearly in an internal debate. We were in her bedroom, and she had begun to change into her silk pajamas.

"Perhaps you should be sleeping in your room." She paused to consider her words. "There's a reason I don't allow men to sleep in my bed."

I was wearing a dress, ladies sandals, panties and a bra. What about me was masculine? And like last night, I expected to be wearing a nightie to bed.

I looked at her dejected. "I promise not to move until you do in the morning."

She sighed. "It's not just that. It was seeing your little penis erect. I don't think you can handle just being with a woman. Cuddling with her. In the end, you're just like any other guy, wanting sex."

Catch-22. I do want to have sex with her. I would do anything for that chance. Yet I had come to accept that it was never going to happen. I did want to be with her, to receive the attention I could get.

"Besides, weren't you explaining yesterday morning, that in your religion Familiars should be celibate?"

Once again, I had set a trap for myself and walked into it. "Yes mistress. The third rule, chastity. I promise I would never touch you, or myself..." I looked down in shame. "I wouldn't do that without your permission."

She had a wicked smile.. "You better be following the rules, even when I'm not around."

"Yes mistress!" I hastened to respond. I had the blue balls to prove it.

She sighed. "Still, I don't think you can help yourself. Your little thing..." She gestured dismissively to my genitals. "... has a mind of its own."

Indeed it did this morning. Over the years, I have often been embarrassed by how small my penis was. How unmanly it was. Now, I was embarrassed by an erection, a show of my masculinity.

I thought back to the HOPE video last night, and the countless other sissy videos I had seen over the years. The solution was obvious, but the thought filled me with dread.

My answer went unspoken. This left only her solution.

"Given that I can't trust your little penis not to stiffen when I hold you, I have no choice but to make you sleep in your room."

I desperately wanted to argue with her. Yet what kind of Familiar would I be if I did not follow my mistress's instruction.

"Yes mistress." I reluctantly turned towards the door.

Before I exited the room, she once again put me in my place. "And you had better not be playing with yourself in there. I expect you to be on edge tomorrow morning."

"Yes mistress." Tease and denial. I wasn't sure how much I could take.

"You have a big day ahead of you. Don't forget your promise to me."

How could I forget? It had been rolling around the back of my head since I said it yesterday morning. I had promised to wear a dress or a skirt to the office.

"Yes mistress."

Karen walked up to me, and embraced me. This tenderness surprised me. "Good night sweetie. Sleep well."

Sleep well? I was being dismissed from her bedroom. I was nervous about tomorrow when I would wear a dress in public with my friends and colleagues for the first time. The delicate fabric of my nightie would stimulate forbidden arousal. How on Earth was I supposed to sleep well?

"Thank you mistress. Good night."

And without further ado, I trudged off to my bedroom. I quickly changed, and crawled into bed. Yet as expected, sleep did not come easily.

* * *

Monday morning came early. Initially, I debated wearing some slacks and a button down shirt. However, I decided that would only disappoint Karen, and delay the inevitable.

And if I was wearing a dress, I was going to do this properly. Not some freaky guy in a dress. I wore the bra. I did my makeup, and wore my earrings. And with my new hair style, I looked good. Really good. Most importantly to me, I was passable. Not that I was going to fool anyone at the office, who all knew me.

The smile from Karen, when she saw me in the dress, reassured me.

I had chosen the most boring of options. It was a semi-fitted, cotton-polyester blend with a hem that reached my knee. Its round collar and solid blue colour were anything but suggestive. Yet it was still a dress. An ordinary dress that was typical office attire for a woman, and now apparently for me as well.

I feigned nonchalance, when really my stomach was full of butterflies. I attempted to calm myself by performing my usual routine.

As I was serving her breakfast, Karen slid her hand under my dress up to my crotch. I nearly dropped the plate in shock.

Karen simply grinned as she gently squeezed my penis. It was only a moment, and despite her hand being on my sexual organ, it was not erotic. Karen didn't stroke me. She simply held me and observed my reaction.

I moaned, and attempted to shift forward, trying to thrust into her touch. My little penis hardened immediately, and twitched within her hand.

Yet, just as sudden as it had started, her hand was removed. I whimpered, as I was once again brought to the edge, and then denied release.

Karen raised her hand up, the hand which had just held my penis, and caressed my cheek. "Good girl."

I stood motionless, just looking at her. Stunned and confused.

"I told you not to play with yourself last night, and you didn't. You do have one thing in common with a typical man, you are desperate and eager to please when your little thing doesn't get release. I don't need your mother's religion to tell me that."

I whimpered in resignation. I was being complimented on my ability to deny myself pleasure. Moreover, she clearly knew how to detect if I had been disobedient. Any hope of jerking off in secret was dwindling away.

On the drive into the office I began to shift nervously in my seat. My full public display was fast approaching.

Karen glanced at me, but said nothing. She patted my knee, reassuring me as a mother might soothe a nervous child.

It was comforting. And when we parked, I took a deep breath, gathering my nerves.

Once again, Karen only smiled, encouraging me.

"Remember to keep your knees together, and rotate. Don't just step out. That is much more ladylike."

I nodded. Remember? When did I ever have to even think, much less learn, about exiting a vehicle in a ladylike fashion. Nevertheless, I followed her instruction.

By contrast, Karen was wearing a very sharp-looking pant suit. The suit and wide heeled shoes allowed her to step out, and walk with a confident stride.

The heels I wore gave an unwanted sexy sway to my hips as I walked. The Bataan Death March. 50 feet.

As we entered the office, my effort to pass paid off initially, as no one paid much attention as we walked to her office.

Karen could sense my relief of having made it this far. She proceeded to treat this like any other business day. Yet I could tell she was delighting in my discomfort. She assigned some tasks, and then I went to my desk. Open and exposed.

It was just my luck that the first person to approach me was Marcus. The womanizing alpha man who had always made me feel insecure. I hadn't forgotten his last attempt to humiliate me.

He had a huge smirk on his face. "Well, well, don't you make quite the pretty secretary."

I glared at him, but said nothing. What could I say?

"Is your boss available honey? I'd like her assistance on some quarterly report numbers."

He was using the same misogynistic tone he used with other female assistants. The infuriating part was that I knew his bad boy behaviour actually worked.

"Karen isn't my boss." I weakly replied. The favour he was asking for would likely fall to me, and I felt no inclination to help him.

"Whatever sweetheart. Just tell me if your superior is here."

I wished I could retort to his smug response. Yet, Karen was in all things my superior. Besides, he technically didn't need my permission. He could simply knock on her door.

I picked up the phone and dialed her extension. "Hello Karen. Marcus is here. He needs your input on some quarterly reports. Do you have a moment?"

"Oh, OK." She seemed surprised by the manner of request through the phone.

My attention returned to Marcus. "Yes, she's available. Go on in."

He smiled, appreciating my submission. "Good girl, but you do need to work on your phone manners. Karen, as opposed to Ms. Townsend? And Marcus as opposed to Mr. Layton, or Sir? Really Christine, manners."

Call him sir? Christine? I glared at him.

He ignored me, and proceeded into her office.

Fortunately, he didn't say anything as he left her office 10 minutes later. Yet, as expected, I was called into Karen's office. I noted her phrasing on the phone. "Christine, could you come in here please."

Apparently, I was now being addressed as Christine at work, as well as at home. I decided to accept it. "Yes ma'am."

I paused for a moment after hanging up the phone. Ma'am? Was I really listening to Marcus? I decided that Karen deserved that respect, but to hell with him.

I promptly entered her office, notepad in hand. As suspected, she was assigning me the work for him. It was annoying, but it was after all her orders.

As the morning progressed, I received some odd looks, but no one said anything. Some were their typical friendly selves, but were not sure how to react. For example, Rick, the IT guy simply said, "Hi Chris, how are you doing?"

His standard greeting, with his normal tone. Yet I could tell from his eyes that he was surprised by the dress, and my overall appearance. Not in a bad way, just unsure.

Likewise, I didn't know what to say. There was a short awkward silence. How was I doing? I'm dying here, emasculated by my girlfriend and supervisor for all to see.

"Good Rick, yourself."

"Nothing but sunshine." He grinned and moved on.

It was somewhat reassuring. The guys who always treated me like crap were laughing at me. Yet those who had always been nice hadn't changed either.

The real test Karen thrust upon me before noon. "I have a lunch meeting with a client, so you should join your friends for lunch."

A somewhat innocuous suggestion. Yet it involved me walking across the office, and spending my lunch hour with a group of ladies who no doubt would have something to say.

I knew that they wouldn't be mean. Quite the contrary. Yet, was I prepared for the compliments? Did I really want to hear that I looked good in a dress?

Nevertheless, at our usual time, I proceeded to Joanne's desk. Once again experiencing that sensation of being in a dress. The sway of the fabric brushing against my hose-covered legs. The openness, as I felt the air on my inner thighs. Even though I was now accustomed to wearing a dress at home, the sensation gave me a thrill.

Joanne's reaction was even more than I anticipated. Far more than friendly reassurance. "Oh wow!" she gushed. "I always wanted to see you in a dress."

She did?

"... but I had no idea you would look so pretty."

She walked up to me and hugged me. She was making a scene, and me uncomfortable. Thankfully my penis was fully constrained in its tucked position by panties and hose. I was aroused by the dress and exhibitionism. Yet, I would have been humiliated beyond belief, if my little thing pressed into Joanne.

"uhmm, thank you." I didn't know what to say. I looked down, embarrassed by all the attention. The other ladies were also taking notice.

Cheryl had now stood up, putting on her jacket, and overtly scanning my body as she walked up to me. "I like the new hair style. Very flattering."

"Oh, yeah, thanks." In my anxiety about the dress, I had forgotten the cut and perm that was very feminine. Ladies don't miss anything.

Lisa smiled at me. "Your nails are cute. Did you get them done, or did you do them yourself?"

"Ohh, yeah," I glanced down at the rosy coloured nails. "They were done at the salon. Same as the hair." I attempted to speak in a casual matter of fact tone to disguise my nerves.

"You'll have to get me their number. It looks great."

I nodded. "I'll have to get that from Karen."

Lisa nodded, but also seemed surprised by the mention of Karen. Why? I told them all that Karen was my girlfriend. Why else would I would I wear a dress? For whom?

The hidden question emerged during lunch.

"Christine." Apparently Lisa was now feminizing my name as well. "How do I put this delicately? But, uhm, what do you do with Karen?"

"What do you mean?" They clearly weren't talking about work.

"Well, Karen is gorgeous. I'm not into women, but even I can see that. Bitch." She and the others laughed. It's never fun for ladies to acknowledge that another woman is more attractive, and it generates a certain hostility, even if unwarranted.

"And?"

"Well, you're not exactly the real manly type."

I looked down at the dress. Her observation was undeniable.

"... I mean, you never were, even before all this." She gestured to my current appearance. "A woman like Karen can have any guy she wants. And typically it's some tall, ruggedly handsome guy with lots of money."

She was clearly projecting her own dream guy into Karen's desires.

"No offense. Sincerely, I really like this new you. We all do." The group nodded in affirmation. "But you're not really who we expect to be with Karen."

"You mean, what is Karen doing with a sissy?"

Lisa paused, fearing that she had truly hurt my feelings. "I didn't call you that. We're friends, and we want you to be happy. And Karen really does seem to make you happy. I don't know..."

She looked around for help from the others at the table. Yet, they were equally tongue-tied.

I decided to give her a reprieve. She and the others really are my friends, and their concern was genuine.

"It's ok Lisa." I could see that she relaxed immediately. "I am a sissy. I have come to accept that now."

They were surprised that I said it. Frankly, so was I.

"And yes, Karen and I have a rather unconventional relationship."

Joanne interjected "Have you, you know?"

I had to suppress giggling. Even Joanne was trying to be modest, by avoiding the direct question they all had.

"Have we had sex?"

Joanne nodded. They did, and didn't, want the answer.

"No. It's not like that."

"See, I told you. Karen likes the muscular, blue collar type. And you... you just need to come out of the closet. I mean, you clearly already have. Just, you know..."

Even now, dressed as I was, it felt cruel to be so emasculated. I had declared that I was a sissy. Yet, it was still hard to acknowledge that I would never have sex with Karen. Yet, she would not deny herself. Someday, Karen would have sex with a real man, just as Joanne described him. Someone not me. And naturally, the other ladies assumed that I would simply have sex in another way, as the woman.

Somehow the gay notion didn't bother me so much any more. It only hurt in the sense that it raised questions about our relationship.

I had spent so many nights fantasizing about Karen, even before we were together. It hurt to acknowledge that I would be so close to her, but it would never happen between us.

My little penis twitched painfully from its trapped position, never to be released.

How do I explain that I am attracted to women? That I was not attracted to men, despite my feminine appearance. That I loved Karen. Yet more importantly, Karen loved me without making love to me.

I wasn't certain I understood it. Therefore, how could I explain it.

"What Karen and I have... It's just a different kind of intimacy."

The ladies, fearing they had pushed me too far, didn't push me on this non answer. They continued to give concerned glances, but didn't want to say anything that would make it worse. Thankfully, the discussion turned to Cheryl's new apartment.

After lunch, I returned to my desk with an air of resignation. My penis still aching, longing to be freed.

I debated sneaking into the washroom to rub one out. Yet, which washroom? And I really didn't think I could fool her. In the end, I would suffer her wrath and disappointment. I did nothing but sit in silence, attempting to distract myself with work.

Karen attributed my silence to my discomfort in the dress. Not entirely a false assumption as I keenly felt the judgment, real or imagined, of each person who passed my desk. Her solution was to treat it as normal. Our communications being entirely work related.

On the drive home, she patted my knee. "You did good today Christine. I'm proud of you."

Her assurance did provide some consolation. It did not provide relief. My penis ached as it always did in her presence.

"You deserve a reward when we get home."

I looked at her excited. At last I was going to be stroked, and allowed to cum. My little penis hardened in anticipation. At the moment, it only caused more pain and discomfort. However, I could live with that once I was finally released.

Karen nonchalantly walked into the house, took off her shoes, dropped her bag, and sat down on the sofa. I followed her like a puppy eager for attention.

I stood before her, uncertain as to what I should do next.

Karen pointed to the floor. I promptly knelt before her. She stroked my face, and stared into my eyes.

"I am very happy with you Christine. I know it was difficult to show everyone who you really are, but it will get easier."

Who I really am? Was this really me? And it only reinforced the impression that I was gay. I remained silent as my mind spun in circles.

"Now for your reward." She undid the zipper of her pants, and pulled them down. I slid them off, past her feet, and neatly set them aside.

I was shifting slightly since this long dress wasn't the most comfortable while kneeling.

Karen noticed. "You have permission to remove your dress, but leave the pantyhose and undergarments. "

That seemed oddly precise, but who cares? It just felt nice to be kneeling before her, and with only my undergarments it felt more sexy. With her hand on my shoulder, she directed me to lean forward.

There it was, that intoxicating scent. Apparently I was not the only one aroused today. I instinctively dipped my head into her. My fingers gently pushed her panties aside, and I began to lick.

Karen sat back, opening herself up, and moaned. Her hand resting on my head, coaxing me to continue. Not that there was ever any doubt.

This was indeed a reward. My now experienced tongue knew just how to pleasure her. Her moans and gasps confirmed it. As was my nature, and my training, I savoured every moment. Long slow licks, followed by intervals of rapid flicks of the tongue, and sucking. Her thighs tightened around me, guiding me, and intensifying my efforts.

I lost myself, entrapped between her legs. We were not in any hurry. The grip of her fingers in my hair, her thighs closing tight around me, and her sharp cries, all told me she was close.

And then that exquisite release. Her long guttural moan. My face pushed into her, unable to breathe. And of course, that delicious nectar.

She took some time to compose herself. Time to catch her breath.

I really earned my reward. My skin had goosebumps. My penis was painfully hard.

Karen stood up, and retrieved her pants. "I'm going to take a shower, and change. Please prepare dinner."

And just like that, she started to walk out of the room.

"But, I thought..."

She stopped to look back at me. Questioning.

"I thought..." I looked down, feeling both shame and intense desire. "I thought..."

She walked back to me, caressing my cheek, and staring down at me. A mixture of sympathy and disappointment. "You thought I would touch your little thing. Eww."

Eww? Was my small sign of manhood so disgusting. Being so utterly dejected and humiliated, my erection withered.

"I thought you said that I earned a reward."

She gave a bemused shake of the head. "I did reward you. Don't you like licking me?"

There was the trap. There was nowhere I would rather be than on my knees worshipping her. "Yes mistress."

My head lowered in shame. Shame at having disappointed her. Disappointed that I would not receive release. Fear that I never would.

Karen proceeded out of the room, and up the stairs, leaving me on my knees. Alone with my thoughts, and my frustration.

* * *

I had changed into a lighter dress, and finishing the dinner preparation, when Karen re-emerged. She appeared refreshed and relaxed, wearing a tunic sweater and pajama pants.

Without a word, I laid the food out on the table.

She smiled across the table from me, and breathed in the rich aroma. "Truly wonderful Christine. I don't know how I ever survived without your cooking, and caring for me and our home."

I smiled in return. "Thank you." It appeared that all was forgiven, even if I was uncertain of what I had done wrong.

We chatted idly over dinner. She asked what the ladies thought of my dress today. I confessed that they really liked it. What I didn't mention was their doubts about Karen & I, and my sexual orientation.

After dinner, and cleaning-up, I found Karen in the rec room. She was lounging on the sofa, feet up, with a tablet in hand. The TV was on some drama, but she didn't seem to be paying any attention.

I knelt down beside her, and she idly petted me. Her attention on her tablet.

"You can change it if you want." She was referring to the TV. "I have some research articles, I need to review."

I turned to the TV, far more interested in her affection. However, that did not appear to be forthcoming. She continued to stroke me, as one would lazily pet a dog at your side. It felt nice.

I flipped through the channels, not finding anything of particular interest. My attention continually returning to Karen. I didn't want to distract her, but I was desperate for her attention.

"Karen, what is our relationship?"

She looked at me. Confused by the question. Slightly bothered by the interruption. Concerned that I would still doubt her intentions.

I elaborated, feeling the need to justify this conversation. "The ladies at work know your taste in men. And that I obviously don't fit the bill. So, where does that leave us."

She nodded, understanding my concern, and yet frustrated by it.

"Sweetie, you perhaps understand all this better than I do. Given your family." She didn't need to say anymore on that front. "I don't really know what drew me to you. I just somehow knew from the moment you walked into my office that I wanted to dominate you. And then when you continued to acquiesce at every turn. Well, I guess you could say the relationship had a life of its own."

I both understood, and was confused by her words. "Do you talk about me, about us in the office?"

"Oh sweetie, you're just being insecure."

I stared at her. Of course I was insecure. I was humiliated. I wore a dress to work. I had to endure the silent, and not so silent, ridicule of guys like Marcus, real men. Yet, more to the point, she hadn't really answered my question.

She relented. "I don't generally talk about my private life. Unlike other women, I don't like to gossip, and discuss relationships. So, no I don't really talk about us at work."

She could see my disappointment.

"But that's no reflection on you, or how I feel about you," she hastened to add. "I just don't talk about these things."

She really was different from other women, certainly my office friends.

"I don't hide our relationship."

I had to at least concede that. She wouldn't be encouraging me to have lunch with the ladies, or meeting with Mrs. Simmons, if she was trying to hide our relationship.

"The ladies at work, my friends, they still think I'm gay. And with all this," I gestured to the dress. "Well, I can see why."

She nodded, though we had discussed this before.

"It's just..." I was nervous about dragging out this conversation. She clearly felt it was tiresome. "They, my friends I mean, don't see us as a couple. They are nervous about you. Well, not you exactly. I mean, they don't think you're mean."

I stopped to compose my thoughts. "They just don't think I'm the type of guy you usually date. So, I guess they're worried I'm getting too far into this. And I guess they think you're going to dump me. And I couldn't handle that."

Tears welled up in my eyes. The very thought of losing her was devastating.

To my surprise, she leaned forward, and embraced me. She wasn't annoyed by my pestering questions. She was genuinely concerned, and silently gave me the assurance that I needed.

"Oh sweetie," she spoke soothingly as she ran her hand through my hair. "You really have gotten yourself into a state. Don't you see that I've fallen in love with you?"

I looked at her stunned. Each time that she said that she loved me, it felt like the first time. Perhaps, it felt too good to be true.

"Yeah, I guess I do," I mumbled. Hardly convincing.

"I would think that you of all people would understand. Don't you think Elizabeth truly cares about Erica? And haven't you said your mother has been with her Familiar for years? You of all people know that a sissy can be loved by a woman. Just not like a man."

I nodded. I had never thought of it like that.

"And if I recall correctly you don't know who your father is. He was never part of your life. Wouldn't you rather be like Alexis, your mother's Familiar?" She paused, uncertain if she had the name right. "Wouldn't you rather be like her, than some random one night stand who is not a part of my life?"

"I want to be with you, more than anything." I pleaded.

She kissed my forehead. "Than stop fussing you silly boy. You're here, and the only reason I would ever let you go is if you got all manly and demanding."

"You're right, I'm sorry. " I looked down in shame.

Was I really going to ruin a good thing, again? After all, I wouldn't have been alone for years if I had obeyed my mother. I couldn't lose Karen as well.

She kissed my forehead again, and rustled my hair affectionately. "That's a good sissy."

She leaned back on the sofa, and returned her attention to her tablet. The discussion over.

I settled back on my knees by her side, content with the occasional petting. I feigned interest in the TV. In reality, I considered everything she had said.

It was easy to get down on myself. I had left home, and endured years of loneliness and self-doubt, only to end up back on my knees and emasculated. Yet, at the same time, I had won over the woman of my dreams.

Karen didn't say anything further that evening, and I dared not disturb her.

It was only at bedtime that I suffered the consequences. Once more, I hoped that I would have the honour of sharing her bed. Yet, it was not to be.

In the hallway she directed me to my room. "I think it's best that you sleep in here. Part of you can't help being a man." She glanced toward my crotch. "... and I don't want to be disturbed again in the morning."

I nodded with a look of shame, and watched as she walked into her inner sanctum. She gave a cute wave, "Goodnight sweetie." Then her door was closed, leaving me frustrated and ashamed to be a man.

I withdrew to my room. Ironically, it did offer some comfort as my sanctuary of femininity. After all, it was my little remaining masculinity which had banished me from her embrace.

Despite my nerves, and my desperate need for release, the adrenaline of the day finally took its toll. I slept soundly through the night.