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He was already there, kneeling in the center of the dark space. His back was too straight, his assigned sissy maid uniform too soft, too pink. This submissive, this sissy bitch, was waiting for me. I liked that I could feel his fear, even from across the floor. It was a good scent.
My heels clicked sharp and slow on the cement tiles. I walked a full circle around him, never touching, just watching the subtle way his whole body tensed and trembled. He kept his eyes locked on the floor, afraid to look at his mistress. Bon. Good manners are everything.