Mistress.

The word formed in my mind, but I was intimidated into silence and couldn’t say it out loud.

She stepped inside, The air, already frigid, with a deep winter chill seemed to grow colder and sharper in her presence. 

She unbuttoned her greatcoat, letting it fall open. Beneath it, she wore a uniform of dark, black latex. Her authority was undeniable. Her eyes—fierce, calculating, dark —scanned me and the charred silk clinging to my chest, and  my tattered stockings that revealed more skin than they covered.

“So… This is what you do while the world burns.”

I tried to swallow. “I… found them,” I whispered, the lie pathetic even to me.

“You dressed yourself in a dead woman’s finery. In the ruins of her life… and you enjoyed the experience “ 

My breath caught. “Yes Mistress.”

“Good..  she said… “she no longer needed them Good girl” 

I nodded, a helplessly 

“Now you will stand to attention . While I inspect you “ 

I felt myself become excited as she began to walk slowly and deliberately around me inspecting the the soft chemise, the way it draped over my tiny pert breasts, the way the  torn silk teased my erect pink nipples.

Then her eyes went to the  tops of my stockings

“They are loose … pull them up “ 

“Yes Mistress “ 

 I began fumbling with the little clasps the sensation of the silk against my shaved skin; under Mistress’ stern gaze; exquisite .

With every fumble of the clasp I began to slip, helplessly into a delicious sissy subspace.

With every out breath I slipped deeper and deeper, my fingers that fumbling with the clips, becoming slower, clumsier more and more distracted until I could barely move them

I looked helplessly up at Mistress and she disdainfully looked down on me.

My gaze dropped to the floor and I surrendered completely to Mistress Psyches effortless superiority