“Sometimes you’re just bad, mother,” he said.“I can’t help it.”I touched his neck. His face. Stared into his anguished eyes. Moved my face...closer to his. He blinked, a little confused. And I gave him such a sympathetic look, the kind I used to give him when he was confessing to something he did bad. I gave his lips a peck. His eyes had closed for a second. I kissed him again. His arms were around my waist now. I gave him a proud look and three pecks quickly and playfully.“Honey,” I whispered. After the transformation at the salon not only thepower, but also just the look of Mark made his penis stir. It was kindof confusing since John considered himself completely hetero, but thenagain did Mark really count as a guy in the first place?Over the course of the day John made Mark masturbate a few more times.Just because he could. seeing Mark carry out his orders instantly reallygot him going. He masturbated a few times alongside Mark as Well.Knowing that tomorrow the sissy would wear. To get them home. We were closing down the operation and feeding back information directly to the British Embassy about what we were hearing might happen. Basically, it was not good! We knew so many of these people...when the buses would arrive for the Americans, you could see them pushing towards the bus and trying to get their Vietnamese wives and c***dren along with them! There were desperate scenes of families separated, and crying out for help, pleading not to be left behind...clutching at. "Hand me your panties." The colour drained from my face and I went cold. Shit. In my haste and pre-occupation with perfecting the walk I'd entirely forgotten his final rule. I was supposed to wear them all day, take them off just prior to the date and bring them with me. I pictured them crumpled and perfectly stained on the bed, now useless. Looking down at my cutlery, a small voice escaped. "I, uhhh, forgot them." When I swung my gaze up to his, expecting displeasure, I found something else.