When she was doing my makeup, I thought she was plasteringit on, but no. It looked as if there was barely any, just my cheek boneshighlighted, my eyes...looked amazing and pale pink lip gloss. The dressfitted perfectly, despite the rolled up socks for breasts. In fact Ilooked a very presentable and classy woman.Handing me a pair of shoes with three inch blocky heels, she said, "Youare taking me to that French restaurant near the church on the HighStreet."I knew exactly the one she was talking. “You are stunningly beautiful. What is wrong with men these days?”“No, it’s me,” I said, looking down, “I’ve been, uh, married to my work. But now I’ve met someone, and I’m, uh, not really sure what to do, but I need to do something for him. Something, uh, big.”“OK, and what kind of relationship is it?”I hesitated, then, looking down, said, “I want him to be my master; I want him to accept me as his slave.”“OK, great. He must be a great guy. What did you have in mind?”**I swallowed hard, looked. More

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