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He will cry if he wants to. . .
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“Let’s have a little dinner party. We can both dress up in our prettiest dresses!”
Her words echoed within David thoughts as he clutched his knees tighter. David had locked the door behind himself but so far no one had come after him. He could not bare to face them with tears in his eyes - especially not her. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction but his new feminine pride didn’t want the tears to ruin his mascara.
She had suggested the party, saying she wanted to see him dolled up. “You’ve got so many new clothes and you’ve gotten so good at doing your own makeup. Won’t it be fun?” Like always, David devoured her praise. She taught him how to accentuate his slender features and bring out the feminine side. She told him his willowy frame was a blessing because almost every dress he wore looked good on him.
For months, she coaxed David into femininity, addicting him to the sensual embrace of satin intimates. She would tease him about how quickly he learned to walk in heels then rewarded him with a few sweet words. She made him admit to how much he loved the delicate touch of stockings. She only allowed him to speak in a girlish voice at home and he always addressed her as ‘Miss or madam.” David tried to deny his enjoyment but she eroded his resistance. The longer their relationship progressed, the deeper his feminine immersion went. The deeper it went, the easier it was to become ‘Sabrina’ each day.
By the time the day of their dinner date arrived, David could barely contain his excitement. He had spent so much time getting ready that he never heard the guests arrive. David minced into the living room in his new blue satin party dress and white pumps to find a several of his friends and family mingling together. Each one of them turned to see the shock on his flawlessly made-up face. Eventually he caught her eye, ruby lips curled into a triumphant smile and arms clutching the bicep of David’s rival from work. That was when she introduced Sabrina to guests, cluing them in on her true identity.
“Oh come now, darling,” she whispered as she paraded him around the room. “A real man would have never agreed to be my pretty little Sabrina. Your friend would have scoffed at the idea of swishing about in dresses. Plus he provides so many things you cannot. I know you’re upset but you know I did you a favor. You don't’ have to pretend anymore, everyone knows the truth. So after you’re done sulking, fix your make-up and come back to the party. You and I both know you aren’t going anywhere; that ship has passed and you belong to me now.”
David continued to fight the tears, glancing over at the suitcase for a moment. He sighed, realizing he had no male clothing to pack. No, he wouldn’t leave. He got up and moved over to his vanity and checked his face before walking towards the door. David left himself in the bedroom - Sabrina rejoined her mistress at the party.