I want to see his stash of sissy clothing.

You press the button, and magically the rear wall of his closet swivels open and reveals a MASSIVE closet stuffed full of women's clothing.

Overhead lights click on as you slowly in to the room, your eyes wide with wonder. The room reeks of perfume, roses and baby powder. You now know why his panties smelled of roses, even after several days since he passed.

"This is larger than my entire apartment," you realize, perhaps understanding, for the first time, what it means to be a billionaire. Your shoes sink into the plus, burgundy carpeting. The walls are pink, trimmed in white.

As you take it all in, you begin to understand the organization. To the left are dresses, ranging from prom gowns, wedding gowns and cocktail dresses all the way to 50's wifely house-dresses, shifts, shirt-dresses and clingy sweater dresses.

To the right in front are night gowns, including long, silky lingerie (appropriate for a blushing bride) to baby dolls, silk pajamas and comfy cotton-lace nighties. In back is his sissy wear, maid outfits, sissy dresses trimmed in rows and rows of lace and ribbons (many which are locking) and baby girl onesies.

The entire far wall are shoes, in all sorts of heights and colors, Many of the high heels have locks on them.

In the middle are drawers and drawers of lingerie: Panties, bras, foundation wear, garters, stockings, slips, collars... it just goes on and on.

"Wow."

It is a cross-dressers paradise.

You spend some time nosing around, but quickly realize that it would take a lifetime to fully appreciate his collection. It's a thought which makes you sad... for some reason.

Just then you notice message etched in to the mirror above the dressing table,

"I willingly submit myself to your training."

It says. Could it be another password? If so, it's not as obviously sexual as the previous ones. You think you should probably take some time to figure it out - is it a warning of some sort? But you are distracted by the massive array of cosmetics practically covering the table.

Whatever, there are clearly no documents here.