FSE

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Act 1, Scene 1

"A dress for... her?" the attendant asked puzzled, one eye brow raising, clearly visible with her raccoon mask; some animals just wear their expressions more than others. Not like Grace's eyes, ringed only by black fur and giving the eternal impression of a steady gaze. Grace nodded her head certainly, one hand firmly gripping Julian's shoulder like he might try to run off. The way his heart was beating he just might have tried if not for that paw's sure grip, calming him with the casual control it exerted on him and the simple message it communicated; you have no choice. She was a good collie and he was a good sheep for her.

"Juli here's been a good girl so I said I'd buy her some nice clothes. Could you be a dear and help us find something in her size...?" Grace glanced down at the raccoon's nametag, "Vanessa." Julian gave Grace a sidelong glance, unfurred cheeks burning red. She didn't need help finding a dress. She knew clothing inside and out. She could make the dress herself if she wanted. Tailoring was part of her job, in fact. No, Grace just wanted to drag Julian out in public and embarrass him. His heart beat faster, half with embarrassment and half with excitement, when she caught his defiant look. She showed a tiny grin and licked her lips quickly, meaningfully.

The attendant giggled at the two of them, beginning to catch on to Grace's little game and leading them through a series of dresses. Expertly Grace guided the attendant to what she was after. Fifteen minutes later Julian was in a changing room, the two women at either side of the door like sentinels, while he slipped in and out of dresses. There were ten dresses but he knew Grace; she knew exactly which ones they were buying. The others were all just for show, to toy with him and play out a little scene, making him show off each dress with a little spin and curtsy for her. He could hear the furious wagging of her tail before he ever saw it, shifting the set of her sharply tailored pantsuit as it ruffled the back.

"I believe that's the last dress, miss," the attendant stated, eyeing the store for the next potential customer, two dresses already draped over her arm for purchase. Julian had saved this dress for last. He knew Grace wanted it and he knew that, just as he feared being seen in it the most he also wanted to be seen in it the most. He swallowed and opened the door, giving his customary curtsy.

Grace's grin broke into a toothy smile at the sight of the black dress and its pink, lacey trim. The ruffled skirt was dangerously short for a boy to be wearing, only the way it puffed out keeping him more or less safe. "She'll wear this one home. You can take those to the register. We'll be right there." Grace didn't even look at the attendant as she said it, instead stepping up to Julian, half into the doorway of the changing room. He had to step back a little as she advanced. Her paw ran over his stomach, clad in sheer cloth, and down his hips to rub over his panty clad shaft, already firm and tugging at the velvety undergarment from the afternoon's dress-up. He swallowed, watching the curious looks of other shoppers as they glanced over, but it was only a moment. She slipped her fingers through the ring of his collar, the one constant in all of his outfits, and gently guided him from the changing room. He thought his heart was going to explode in that cramped little room.

"We'll need to get you some stockings and some shoes, too... and maybe some new makeup?" Grace handed her credit card to the attendant, not even looking at the raccoon, eyes locked hungrily on Juli. "And a purse. Yes...."

Act 1, Scene 2

Julian had met Grace only a few short months ago. Grace had been producing a play, building sets and designing costumes, gathering investments. She showed up to the rehearsals but she didn't have a whole lot to do at them. A producer's work mostly takes place off the stage. But one day, as her mind was wandering, she noticed some of the prospective actors talking to the janitor, broom slung over her shoulder as she paused on her way to clean up the stage. Today only actors were being seen, the actresses coming on next week. The actors seemed bored, avoidant even, of this cleaning lady.

Grace tried to remember the names of the actors for something to do. The tall Okapi boy was named something like Jamie or Jamal, she thought. He was exotic, certainly, but still made little impression on her. The Macaw had given his name as the ridiculously fake Damien Phoenix; he was such a preening egoist that it almost made him endearing. The otter seemed more down to earth and she was pretty sure that his name was Xuan. It had sounded like a mispronunciation of Shawn so she had looked up possibilities on her phone. The janitor girl, a cute sheep who looked out of place in her drab work uniform, was unknown to her.

Then it struck Grace; that wasn't a girl. The beautiful boy hadn't even been dressed like a woman but his features were so soft and feminine she had been thrown off.

Grace was curious, excited even. When she approached the actors all froze, slowly realizing one of the big shots in charge of the play was looming over them. It amused Grace that someone as lowly as a stage play producer was frightening to the actors, who all assumed they were about to be reprimanded for something. She shooed them away with barely a thought and turned her attention on the now terrified cleaner, the fear in his eyes making him more beautiful yet; he'd seen the actors' reactions and had picked up on it.

Later Julian told her that he thought she was going to get him fired for bothering the actors. All he'd wanted was to make some connections, try to get into a play himself by befriending some professionals. Just as he thought he was about to become jobless again she smiled and asked him to go to dinner.

Act 1, Scene 3

The shopping center wasn't far from Grace's home but it was still a good walk. They could have driven but Grace wanted Julian walking down the street all dressed up, cars honking at them and passersby staring. The dress would have been odd street wear even on a girl. He followed meekly behind her, quiet and blushing, a bag of clothes in one hand and new purse slung over the other shoulder, containing his new makeup, already applied by another attendant right in the middle of the store where everyone could see. Did they think he was pretty? Did anyone think he was a girl? He hoped so.

He wobbled uncertainly at the doorstep to her home; it wasn't the first time he'd worn heels but he wasn't exactly used to them yet. Shoes made to go over hooves weren't too terribly common and tended to cost a good bit more than those made for paws. As such, he had rarely been able to get any before now. He hoped she'd get the door open quickly so he could get off his feet. As pretty as they were it would take practice before they'd stop hurting his feet. "Was this really necessary? I'm so embarrassed...."

Grace chuckled, looking back at Julian, "If you're going to be my little ewe then you need to get used to acting like it." She clicked the lock and opened the door, the seclusion of her home offering safety from prying eyes, though he missed the excitement of being seen in public even as he crossed the doorstep. "In return, I'll be your collie. A good sheep needs to be herded, right?" her tail was thumping loudly again, some role-play formulating in her head. Julian had no doubt he'd end up in a Little Bo Peep outfit or some such nonsense in the near future. For now, though, she merely clipped a leash onto his collar.

She dropped herself onto her plush couch, Julian heading to the seat next to her but she cleared her throat, stopping him in his tracks. "Curl up at my feet, pet." She lifted her boots, still on her feet, eyes closed with the certainty of his obedience. He hesitated, eyeing the soft couch cushion next to her, but she tugged on his leash and he sighed, kneeling down in front of her. He got onto his elbows and knees and rolled onto his side to lay down, curled up on the floor. She set her boots down on top of him, the bottoms carefully past the new dress to keep from dirtying it. She sat like that, silent and motionless, for several minutes.

Just as Julian was relaxing, despite the floor and the boots, she spoke up. "Clean my boots." Julian tensed, looking up at the dusty boots, bits of grass and mud lightly caking them from the walk. Again he felt the tug on his leash and the message was repeated, a sharp and insistent edge to her voice. With a little whimper he twisted under her feet, bringing his muzzle to the boots and dragging his tongue over the dark leather, the tastes of all the places she had walked greeting him.

Act 2, Scene 1

Two days after they went to dinner that first time Julian was back in the theater pushing a broom across the stage, banishing the detritus of actors scrambling against one another for the few parts available. It was sad, having to sift through the remnants of success he hadn't obtained. Grace was sitting in a chair on the stage with him while he worked, watching him neatly brush the dirt into little piles.

Their dinner had been pleasant by Grace's determination. He was clearly still nervous toward her but she was certain that she liked this boy and could see the nervous appreciation in his eyes. Despite being more than a decade older than the sheep they clearly both liked each other. They had a chemistry that had her uncharacteristically giddy.

"I'm an actor, too." He blushed at the claim, like the fact that he wasn't actually acting now disproved it. "I mean, I have acted, but I want to be a professional. It hasn't been working out, though..." he sighed at the irony, sitting here talking to one of the people running the play. He didn't want to sound like he was begging.

Grace had taken him out to a nice restaurant, the kind he couldn't have hoped to afford himself. She had paid for his dinner, of course. She had been consciously trying to impress him that night. She realized now that she may have been too impressive; he had realized that Grace could help is career.

"It takes a long time and a lot of struggle. There's nothing unusual about having to work odd jobs when you start out." Grace glanced over his body slyly, examining his slim shoulders and broad hips, his long curly hair and fluffy wool. It was still hard to believe he was a boy sometimes.

"I know... but it's still hard. Every failure makes it harder to keep trying. Every unpaid bill makes it more tempting to give up. And every month with no part makes my resume look worse." Julian shook his head, knowing that he sounded pathetic. The last thing he wanted to be in the eyes of this intimidating, fascinating woman was pathetic. "I'm sorry. I'm not giving up. I'll do anything it takes. I mean, look at what I'm doing right now!" Grace smiled absently at the spunk in his voice.

Grace stood, brushing off her pantsuit briefly, debating if she should take a chance on the boy. There were a million hard cases out there and most of them, honestly, just weren't good enough to succeed. She couldn't go out on a limb for every sob story. Then she looked up and saw his butt wiggling about while he worked, little short cropped tail poking out and her heart fluttered.

"I think I can get you an audition. There are still some parts open." Julian dropped his broom and before she knew it Grace was stumbling, the boy's arms wrapped around her in a tight hug. She chuckled as she regained her footing, patting the boy on the back as he thanked her, practically sobbing. She licked her lips and whispered in his ear, "Watching you work is giving me some ideas, though...."

Julian let out a surprised little bleat, stepping back to look at her curiously, "Ideas?"

Grace nodded, stepping in close and taking Julian by the wrists, "I need to get a collar around that neck."

Act 2, Scene 2

Julian tugged at the skirt of his French maid's outfit, made custom for him by Grace. He was getting used to wearing girl's clothes, even skimpy and embarrassing ones, but sometimes the old nervousness came back. Most days he dressed casually but sometimes she'd come up with some fanciful outfit and dress him up like a doll. Like most things in their relationship it was annoying but he also took a deep, powerful pleasure from it that surprised him. He was scared and confused when she collared him, but now he couldn't imagine living any other way.

Julian dusted Grace's mantelpiece, brushing over the rows of photos and candles set above the fireplace. He'd left his awful little apartment and was living with Grace now. She put him to work cleaning and cooking, and tending to any demands she made, though she still expected him to keep working jobs as well. He may be her pet but she didn't want him to be a laze-about. Julian was examining the photos, taken from plays she'd produced, rows of smiling actors and crew. He was so busy daydreaming about being in one of those pictures he didn't even see Grace's reflection as she slipped up behind him.

Julian felt Grace's paws skim over his sides, crossing over his slim belly and sliding up over his chest, pawing over his flat chest like he had something to grab, claws brushing teasingly over his suddenly stiff nipples. "I have another task for you, my little lamb."

Julian bleated quietly, nodding his head with his breath quickening under her sure touch, "Yes Master."

Grace grabbed Julian's chin tightly, squeezing his muzzle so he couldn't speak. "I am not your Master, Juli... I am your Mistress. Or Ma'am. Or Captain. Why are the titles so hard for you?" Julian knew better than to respond. Instead he just held still, breathing deeply with fear he might be punished. But she let go, tapping his nose as her paw left. Her fingers trailed down his hips, slipping up under his skirt. He felt himself tense in anticipation. She curled her fingers around the edges of his panties and tugged them down, exposing his plump ass, the panties tugging firmly at his still covered erection.

"You want a Master more than a Mistress? Well... isn't that ironic." Julian didn't. He only wanted Grace but he knew she'd be angry if he said anything now. She was getting into the swing of something and he daren't get in the way of it. He felt something pressing up against his butt, firm and pointed. At first he thought it must have been her fingers but then he felt her paws, spreading his cheeks open, pushing his shoulders forward. He leaned forward, bracing against the wall, nervous and excited all at once. He didn't even know Grace did this sort of thing. "Because I'm going to breed you my little ewe."

Julian bleated again, louder and deeper, as the strap-on entered him. His fingers dug in against the mantel and his breath caught as he tried to relax against the toy spreading him open. Suddenly Grace had him by the hair, pulling his head back and slipping a rubber ball gag into his lips, fastening it behind his head. His ears laid back and he squirmed. He wasn't sure how he felt about the ball gag, or how uncomfortable it might prove to be, testing the obstruction with his teeth.

"If you can't be quiet then I have to do it, Juli. I can't have the help making itself known, after all." And with those words Julian understood: it didn't matter how he felt about it. She was in control and her whims would be his to submit to. And with that surrender he found his mind slipping into a deep, calming place he didn't realize had been there.

She drove him hard up against the mantle, his shaft throbbing against its elastic prison as his anus slowly soothed, the tension and discomfort slipping away as he grew used to the presence of the strap-on. It felt massive though he had no real idea how big it really was, but soon it felt like it belonged there, plumbing his depths. She leaned over his back, rocking the toy through his body with a tight caress. He swooned at the feeling of her weight on his back, her breasts cushioning against his shoulder blades and her strong fingers squeezing around his forearms.

When Grace was finished she slipped the strap-on out of him, the sudden absence making him shiver, and held him while he trembled, whispering softly into his ear. He did not hear the words in that deep subspace he had fallen into. He whimpered in her grip, barely able to handle the pleasure he was feeling as he slowly surfaced back to reality. He didn't even care that she didn't finish him off, his erection bulging under his skirt. He only knew that he needed to go to that place deep inside his mind again and that he could only trust her to take him there.

Act 2, Scene 3

Julian was glad he was wearing panties under his server's slacks. The apron helped to hide things, too, but without the tightness of the panties he'd have to use his tray to hide his lap. He was carrying a cup of coffee and a cheesecake over to Grace and having her boss him around was having an effect on him even at his real job. Now that he had a chance to be in the play he didn't want to work at the theater anymore; it would be awkward to clean it and act in it, too. He'd picked up a new part time job at a restaurant.

"So what parts did you want to audition for, Juli?" Grace could have gone over this with him at home but she wanted to impose on him at work and make things awkward. As usual, she was playing little dominance games with him. Julian glanced over his shoulder to make sure he didn't need to run and get anything.

The cook, a fat otter named Phong, was already glaring at him over the counter. Julian sighed at the cigarette in his fingers; the cook had no interest in laws or, well, proper hygiene. It had ended up the cook was Xuan's father and now Phong had a grudge against Julian for being "competition".

Before Julian could head back another server, a red panda named Mori, grabbed the dishes Juli was neglecting and headed out to the waiting customers, offering Julian a wink on the way. Mori was an insatiable flirt but a good helper. He nodded gratefully back and returned his attention to Grace.

"Well, that's the thing... there's a reason I've had so much trouble getting roles." Julian glanced around again to see if anyone was close enough to hear. "The parts I want to do are girl parts."

Grace smiled steadily, giving no indication of what she was thinking while she lazily stirred cream and sugar into her coffee. "I sort of figured that. But I also figured you would make do with some more effeminate male roles. It's too bad this play doesn't have any cross-dressers or transsexuals in it." She motioned her paw over the list of casting directions she'd brought, "But here are the ones that might work the best."

Julian looked over the list of names. He recognized them all and he saw what she was trying to do but it just felt wrong to him. "I know it's shooting my career in the foot... but if I can't play the sorts of roles I like then what's the point of being an actor? I'll just build a resume of things I hate being."

Grace smiled broadly, sweeping the sheet away and pulling out another. "I was hoping you'd have that pride in there. I can't promise anything but I've talked to the director and convinced him to let you audition for some of the girl parts, so long as I tried to talk you out of it first. Here are the ones that are open and their lines."

Julian smiled to Grace, taking the sheet and folding it, slipping it into his servers' pad. "You're too good to me, Grace."

She looked up at him while taking a long sip of brown, milky coffee. "Yes I am. For instance, I'm not going to punish you for forgetting my title, ewe."

Julian blushed, clicking his heals together and inclining his head, "I'm sorry, Mistress Grace."

Grace watched him steadily, those piercing, black cloaked eyes freezing Julian with uncertainty. "I like having you serve me, Juli." She cut a small piece from her cheesecake, holding it up while she spoke. "I'll have to have you do this at home. Now shoo, you have work to be doing."

Act 2, Scene 4

Julian looked down at the old-timey outfit he was wearing, like the sort of thing you'd wear at a renaissance festival he thought. Grace had smacked him when he said old-timey and corrected him but he'd already forgotten what time period she'd said it was. She called it a "serving wench" outfit. All he knew was that he didn't realize she was such a nerd. He was wearing some sort of blouse with a low cut neck exposing his flat chest, a tight bodice on over the blouse, and a knee length skirt. He sighed and hefted his try; a mug of ale, of all things, and a modest dinner laid out on it. "At least she promised me a surprise."

When Julian walked out to the dining room he momentarily stopped in his tracks. He was certainly surprised. Grace was dressed up in an elaborate pirate outfit; bucket top boots, tricorn hat, long bridge coat and everything. He caught himself quickly and continued on, setting down the ale and plates in front of Grace. "For the Lady..."

"Captain." Grace cut him off midsentence.

"Of course. For the Captain." He smiled, folding his tray in front of him while she began to eat. "So this is why you said I could call you Captain, huh?"

"Of course, lass. This is my favorite thing to wear. I wanted it to be a surprise the first time I wore it with you, though. You won't be the only one in costume anymore." She took a bite of roast, visibly savoring the flavor. Julian was ecstatic to see her enjoying his cooking so much. He wished he could sit down and join her but, no... not when they were doing something like this. He had to stand and watch like a proper waitress.

"You've gotten much better, mutton. Much, much better." She gave him a predatory grin, "I was about ready to just gobble you up, but now your cooking tastes much better than you would." She reached out one paw, stroking over his crotch through the skirt. He stiffened at her touch, breath growing deep. As she picked at her food with one hand the other hiked up his skirt, fumbled with his panties and pulled out his shaft, thick and warm in her palm. She calmly began to stroke his member while she took a swig of ale, "I think the meat needs more sauce, though... can you get that for me, lamb chop?"

He swallowed hard, his legs trembling a bit while she sped up her movements, caressing him firmly and skillfully. He let out a little moan and she gave him a sharp look. "If you interrupt my meal you won't get a... tip. Understood?" He nodded and bit his lower lip, focusing on holding back any sound. His fingers squeezed his tray as hard as he could against his chest, hips pushing forward to her touch. She felt the telltale throb through his pulsing flesh and brought her plate up to him, letting his semen squirt across the dish, leaving white trails of seed spread across her meal. All the while he kept his teeth around his lip, choking back any sound.

When he was done she set her plate back down and continued eating, his flavor coating the food while he watched her consume his essence. Even as his softening penis hung out of his underwear he stood and waited, silent and obedient.

Act 3, Scene 1

Julian glanced jealously at the desk staff of the hotel as he headed out front, so lucky in their simple suits. The receptionist, a heavy set panda girl named Leena, gave him an understanding look. The hotel manager, a gruff badger named Mr. Hatchford, gave him the exact opposite of Leena's look. Julian suspected he didn't even have a first name just like Julian was sure his new boss had no joy or humor in his soul. He waved gratefully to Leena as he headed out.

He pulled the red cap off of his head and unbuttoned the ridiculous bell hop jacket, wishing he could find a job without some sort of silly uniform. The work was steadier than the restaurant but he was still regretting the change. Grace was waiting for him outside, leaning against her car door as he approached. She smiled and gave him a cat call.

"How was your first day?" she asked as she opened his door for him, taking his hand to help him in like she was letting a lady into a carriage. He smiled gratefully to her. He was happy to be treated as if he wasn't dressed up like an accordion playing monkey. After he was seated she lingered at his door.

"It was harder than I would have thought... and embarrassing. I didn't even know any hotels still used these old uniforms. Guests would laugh at me sometimes." He sighed sadly at the memory of the whispers, snide comments and outright jokes at his expense. He looked up at Grace suddenly, accusingly. "I don't want you to turn this into some costume play thing, Commander. Please."

She gave him a smack on the back of the head before she closed his door and walked around the car. "Captain. Only Captain will do," she reprimanded him as she got into the driver's seat. "Just for that I should make you wear it." She looked at the dejected look in his eyes and smiled. "But it doesn't do anything for me, either. Don't worry. It's not like absolutely any outfit will excite me. But I do have something at home for you. A really big surprise."

Julian perked up immediately at the promise, looking her over searchingly. "What kind of surprise?" He asked, trying not to hope too hard that it was the surprise he spent every day since the audition hoping for.

"A big one," was all she would say.

Act 3, Scene 2

Grace stroked the mascara through Julian's eyelashes, pulling back to get a good look at his face now set with makeup. He looked all dolled up, not exactly the subtle effect she went for with her own makeup. What would be the point if he didn't look like he was wearing any? But it wasn't too much. He didn't look like a streetwalker or anything. She just wanted to see the signs of his feminization without making a joke of it.

Grace began walking around him slowly as he knelt on the floor. The black, ruffled gothic dress draped over his body took years off of his already young age. The red trim and ribbons on the dress matched the leash she clipped onto his collar perfectly. She'd been planning this dress for ages, longer than she'd even known Julian, waiting for the right person to put it on. Now that she saw her handiwork draped over him she knew the wait had been worth it.

"You make a beautiful little girl, Juli." Her high heeled boots clicked on the ground as she circled him, winding the leash about her hand to shorten it. She was wearing long opera style gloves, a tight corset and a long riding skirt, slit up the side. Her tail wagged loudly as she watched him, stopping in front of him. He looked gloomy, like he was embarrassed; she was glad to see he wasn't so used to the dresses that he wasn't embarrassed anymore. He was at his cutest when he was blushing.

"Mistress?" Grace nodded, giving him permission to speak. "Is this dress the surprise you mentioned?" She nodded and watched him, toying with his expectations. She almost felt bad about teasing him like this.

"Forgive me, Mistress, but I thought the surprise would be something more than a new dress..." she grinned, giving the leash a tug, forcing him to raise his head and look at her.

"This dress is different. This dress has a purpose." She gestured to the room broadly, "You're at a dress rehearsal. You got a part." She leaned forward toward him, "A girl's part."

Juli perked up immediately, excitement beaming from his eyes, but he stayed on the floor like a good pet. Grace grinned and tugged the leash again, "And I know just how you can thank me."

Grace pulled Julian's head under her skirt with the leash, raising the fabric to get his head in and lifting a leg to settle one of her boot heels on his back, the sharp spike pushing him in, though she had to steady herself by gripping a chair. Underneath the skirt he discovered she hadn't bothered with panties in this outfit. He rubbed his nose up against her slit briefly, testing the velvety folds of her sex with his tongue before pressing it in, wriggling his nose into her lips to work past them, shifting past the folds of her labia and licking at the tender, steamy flesh beneath. The smell was strong and heady and, with his nose buried in there, almost more than he could handle. However, he was slipping back into that place, the place Grace called subspace, the heel on his back shoving him downward into a sort of trance. He licked from the very base of her slit, and the fleshy entrance of her vagina, up to her puffy clitoris, listening to her pant over him as he swiveled his tongue around the hard little nub.

She reached down and pulled Julian's hair when she came, groaning deeply as he smelled the sweet, thick scent of her climax. She pulled him out from under her skirt by his long, curly hair and pushing him sprawling to the floor. She fell upon him, pressing her lips hungrily into his and tasting her own fluids on his lips. She pushed up the ruffled skirt of his dress and pulled his shaft out of his panties, stroking the warm organ gently while she positioned her hips over it, lowering herself onto it. He moaned under her as he felt his manhood slip inside her, squeezed and caressed in her body for the first time. Her hands gripped his wrists, holding his arms down to the ground as she leaned over him, working her muzzle down into his neck and biting down on his throat above the collar. He cried out, still slipping deeper and deeper into subspace, oblivious to the pain she was causing him.

She rocked on top of his lap, for how long he couldn't tell in his subspace stupor, riding him and holding him down. He could not see what was happening, the riding dress effectively hiding the whole affair, draped over his belly and his skirt. He only knew she was telling him not to come until she gave him permission and everything was pleasure until she gave him the order. When he came his mind blanked in a way he'd never known, totally free of any thought but Grace over top him, enveloping him, her weight and her control surrounding him in every way. The spasms of ecstasy in both of their bodies were nothing compared to the calm and comfort he felt deep in his mind.

Afterward she coaxed him slowly out of subspace, holding him tight and still, whispering in his ear tenderly and licking at the rim. As he returned to his senses, the totality of Grace's influence still in his mind, he knew what love felt like more deeply than he'd ever understood. Finding her waiting for him, whispering to him, was the surest proof of affection he could imagine.

She stood up over him, legs shaking still from the love making, giggling playfully down at him, "I hope we didn't ruin the dress, my little slut."

Julian blushed, slowly pushing himself up to a sitting position, "Do you have to be that demeaning? I don't mind the costumes but they just get worse and worse. Can't I be something cool?"

Grace pulled the leash taught on Julian's neck, leaving him gagged briefly as she gave him a stern, dangerous look. "You are my little girl, Juli. Don't forget that. I'm going to do what I please with you and what I please is to treat you like my little girl. You are my sub and I am your Domme. You'd better get used to it."

As she slackened the leash he reached up to rub his sore throat, whimpering, "I just mean... at least once, I'd like to be cool, too. Like a superhero or something."

Grace kept her stern gaze on him for some time but slowly it softened and an excited grin split her lips.

"I have the perfect idea!"

Act 3, Scene 3

Julian didn't want to win when he tested his limits. If he won the whole thing would be ruined. He loved it when Grace would take control of him. It warmed his heart and gave him a curious strength to be demeaned and used by his Captain. She pushes him to defy his own fears and shyness, which he never could have done alone. He just liked to be reminded that she was in control so, every now and then, he had to do something to make her exert that control.

Julian had safe words, after all. He had a few, in fact, for different things. He had a safe word to tell her to back off when she was being too rough but he didn't want her to stop. He had a safe word for needing a break for a bit, but only for a bit. He had a safe word for when he needed her to stop all together. But he never used them. Even with the collar choking him, leaving his neck sore, he never once thought about using a safe word. In fact later, when he was all alone, the bruises she'd given him and all those sore spots around his body would be fond reminders of her presence, always surrounding him.

Act 3, Scene 4

But now Julian found himself dressed up in an awful dress like he'd see in a silent film, tied up on the floor over a model train track with a toy train tooting along toward him. He had a gag in his mouth made from a knotted cloth, not the nice rubber ball gag from before. He'd complained about the dress, of course; not over embarrassment like he sometimes would as a game but for being, well... ugly. He felt like Olive Oyl in the thing. As usual, though, he could not resist Grace's insistence for long.

On the other hand, when Grace had first started tying him up Julian had no particular reason to distrust her. It was hardly the first time she'd restrained him, after all, even if rope wasn't really her modus operandi. Even the shabby gag hadn't seemed terribly innocuous at first. By the time she was tying him down to a model railroad track he had no means of worthwhile complaint left to him.

Suddenly Grace jumped out of a doorway, wearing some sort of ridiculous super villain outfit. She wore a red cape over her back and a black leotard with red underwear on the outside. Long, red leather gloves clung to her arms and tall jackboots wrapped around her legs. There was a skull-and-crossbones on the chest, "Captain" Grace's favorite symbol. Finishing off the ensemble was a red cloth mask encircling her eyes, doing nothing to disguise her.

"No hero will save you today, my little damsel in distress!" Grace cackled.

Julian squirmed in the ropes, trying to pull a wrist out of their bonds or at least roll from the tracks. Grace was too good at this, though. Julian couldn't manage anything more than a pathetic rocking and some feeble noises made into the cloth gag. He could see in Grace's eyes that her handiwork totally overpowering him was exciting to her.

Normally her excitement would have been wonderful. In fact, normally, his failure to resist her will would have been just as exciting. But right now he had a model train heading for his gut.

"Submit to my will or be crushed by the oncoming train!" Julian really wished he had any idea how he was supposed to submit to her will. He would have done whatever the hell that was with no hesitation.

The situation was so silly that he couldn't get excited about it at all and, at the same time, the model train striking him was patently undesirable. It may not be big or fast enough to really hurt him but, regardless, it was about to punch him in the stomach. Absolutely nothing about this situation seemed particularly fun to poor Julian.

He might have pushed his limits a little too far this time....