“You want nothing more than to be your daddy’s sex slave. You love him. You ache for him. You want to submit to everything he does to you. And you...��” Pain raged across my mind. My words choked off as my vision fuzzed. I drew in deep breaths as I rewrote her brain. I shook my head, stars bursting across my vision, dancing in red and blues and greens. “And you, Mom, you want the same ... from your son. You’re his sex slave. You worship him with your mature body.”More pain burned, but it wasn’t as. I took a pair of the heeled shoes from my bag and putthem on. The fit was a fraction tight and when I stood I was veryunstable. They were obviously going to take a bit of practice. Space waslimited and I could only take one or two steps before I had to turnaround. It wasn't too tricky if I concentrated and didn't move too fast,I decided to give it a go. The last thing I needed was to be 'made' as aboy.I came out the cubicle and studied my face in a mirror. I didn't havefacial hair and my eyes. More

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