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Once there were no chains. No ropes, no silk binds, no restraints. Those has been simpler times - times before his touch meant surrender.
“Ah ah, what did I teach you, Maxine?” his smooth, measured tone chides. “Let my guidance lead you to letting go.” Even after all this time your first instinct is to squirm, but you listen to his words and stop resisting. His grip through your silky dark hair tightens and you moan through your gag. “Good girl. You know you like it better this way.”
You want to shake your head but you both of you know it would be a lie. That’s why it’s so hard even now. He knows you too well, and as well he should. He crafted you from Matt’s unfocused lump of boy-flesh and made you over into HIS toy. He used your curiousity against you and trapped you. He said it was ok that you liked wearing women’s clothing. He gave you every opportunity to be yourself - to be Maxine. He encouraged you to take the pills, to start the hormones. He even offered to pay for the surgeries and even suggested things you never considered. You wanted the attention and acceptance, so you never once questioned his generosity.
When he wanted to play games with you, you thought it would be fun to explore. You got to play the girl and he got a “maid.” When he expressed interest, you let him take the lead. Every little new thing he introduced, you went along with. All his kinky desires became your duties and you were embarrassed by how much you took to them. Eventually, you couldn’t say no. There was no choice now. By the time he had you wrap your painted lips around your first ball gag you knew there was no turning back. You were bound to him by more than just rope; his mental grip on you was stronger than the ropes he tied you up with. You were his now, broken and trained.
So now when you struggle against him, you don't’ do it because you want to get away - you do it because it excites both of you.