Sarah didn’t know Marley was a man

I nearly jump out of my skin at hearing Sarah’s angry voice. Turning around I see that the anger isn’t simply in her voice. She looks angry. I quickly go over what I’ve done and can’t come up with anything that should upset her. I dressed in the clothes she laid out, I used the exercise equipment she bought, and I worked out with the trainer that she paid for, following his instructions as she told me to do.

I’ve felt many things toward Sarah and her actions. Surprise, dismay, acceptance, and even some anger myself… but I’ve never been outright lost as to what she was doing or meaning. In this instance, however, I have no idea why she’s upset. I can only spread my hands out and ask, “What was what?”

Sarah cocks her head to the side and places her hand on her hip. “Oh, don’t play coy with me Sadie. What were you doing with that man? Why would you even let him into MY house, let alone grind up against your ass while you bow down in front of him? And did I hear you call him Sir? I don’t even have you calling me Mistress or Ma’am, but maybe that should change if you like it so much?”

I slowly back up from Sarah as she seems to be getting angrier and angrier. “Sarah… uh.. Mistress? I don’t know what you’re angry about. Honestly. I did everything you said to do. That man was the trainer you hired for me.”

When Sarah hears me slip in the ‘mistress’ she softens just a bit and I worry that she actually likes hearing me say it. But when I say that Marley was the trainer she hired, her anger returns with a vengeance. “What!? No. I didn’t hire a man. I hired Marely. She came highly recommended. I talked directly to her via email, and she never said she was a man. In fact, she said she’s worked with several women to liven up their femininity. Do guys do that? Hmm? Don’t just stand there, answer me!”

Sarah is nearly shouting at this point. Maybe it’s the mindset that working out with Marley put me in. Maybe it’s a response to Sarah’s anger. Maybe it’s my own **** attempt at showing her I’m not trying to do anything wrong. Regardless of why, I drop to my knees and clasp my hands together. “Sarah, Mistress, please, I did as you said. I promise, he came to the door and knew my name. He said he was hired by you. By Sarah. He knew of my…” I peek down at the bulge pressing the tight yoga pants out “…my condition. He knew I was training to be more feminine. He said his name was Marley!”

Dropping down to my knees and clearly begging seemed to slow Sarah’s march toward me. My explanation stopped her outright, but her anger was still clear on her face. I can see her expression change several times as she thinks over everything for a moment. Finally, she points a finger at me and simply says “Wait there” before walking out to the kitchen and grabbing her laptop. When she returns, she’s already clicking and typing and seems to be searching for something. After several moments of her getting more and more frustrated she finally sets the laptop down roughly on the coffee table and motions for me to stand up.

When I stand up, I’m careful to remain in a calm stance. Sarah still seems angry but far less than she did moments ago, and I don’t see any reason to goad her back into that level. When she starts speaking, I can hear in her voice that she is indeed still angry, but it’s not directed at me this time. It’s directed at herself. “Okay, I looked through all of my communications with Marley and the gym and the other people I got recommendations from. I don’t remember the phone call I made with the gym, but I don’t think they mentioned Marley’s gender. And nowhere in any email is there a reference to Marley being a big, tall, black man. But they also didn’t say anything about her being a woman. I just assumed it would be a woman since I was looking for someone to work with a woman wanting to be more feminine. Who knew a guy would not only seek out customers like that but also specialize in it.”

Sarah seems to take a deep breath and prepare herself to move on, which she does immediately. “Anyway, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry I made the mistake and I’m sorry I got so angry about it toward you. But… even if you assumed I had hired this guy, what was he doing to you and why were you letting him do it? I mean, seriously Sadie, if I filmed that I could start a FansOnly page for you and get some good pay out of it. It was sexy. Do you… well no, answer the first part first. What was he doing to you?”

I let out a long sigh, happy that she’s not angry at me anymore. At least not angry about letting in a stranger to her house. As calmly as I can, I explain how the whole encounter went, not leaving out any detail. From bumping into him at the door, to me referring to him as ‘big’ and him thinking I meant his privates, to his hug and his rules, to his exercises and his hands on technique.

Sarah nods along, taking it all in calmly and smoothly. While I’m going over everything we move into the kitchen where she makes us a couple egg white omelet. When I finish with my tale and really dig into my eggs, Sarah takes a long time to process what I’ve told her. Her question takes me by so much surprise that I almost spit a mouthful of eggs out at her. “So, you liked him touching you like that?”

“What? No! He was handling me like a piece of meat. I just thought if you had him as a trainer that YOU wanted him to do that.” Sarah seemed about to speak up, her eyes darkening as if in anger again. For the first time since we met, however, I cut her off. “No! No, considering what you’ve put me through… the devotional of me watching girls suck off guys, making me horny all the time while I’m locked up down there, making me touch myself last night for 15 minutes, only letting me out of this cage long enough to wash, giving me a hand job and not letting me really cum… with all that you’ve done to me in this past week, can you blame me for thinking that you’d set me up with a hulking man who would touch me like some girl in a porno?”

Sarah has the look that I must wear so often. She seems actually taken aback. I can’t stand that I made her feel like that and turn my eyes to the plate in front of me. Without looking up at her I say “I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice or called for. It’s just…”

Sarah reaching out and taking my hand in hers stopped me. Looking up at her I saw her smile but also saw honest concern in her eyes. “There’s no reason to apologize Sadie. I HAVE put you through a lot. But you need to be able to let me know how you’re feeling and not bottle it up until you explode. Silence in a relationship like this is consent. I am not going to have a problem telling you no to some things. Probably to many things. But if you don’t ask, or don’t tell me that you don’t like something, I’m going to assume you either like it or are at least willing to go along with it. Three things are true here. One, I’m dominant in this relationship and I will dictate what you do and how you do it. Two, I’m going to feminize you. We have you almost all the way physically but need to work on so much more mentally, physiologically, and emotionally. And three, I really need you to believe this, I don’t want to hurt you. I want to push you, to find out your boundaries even where you didn’t think you had boundaries, but I do NOT want to hurt you.”

I feel my chest get tight. Just like with her biting her lip, I was getting good at reading her and I felt that she was being earnest. I had to take an extra moment as I really didn’t want to cry. “But…”

Sarah just shook her head and patted my hand, still held between both hers. “But nothing. I know some of what we’ve done might be construed as hurting you but think about our goals. I need you to be a sexy girl in order to make the money I promised. Everything behavior wise is to get us to that goal as quickly and as effectively as possible. It’s not meant to be comfortable. Denying you real orgasms or the ability to play with yourself? Yup, that’s going to keep you on edge and that won’t really start paying off for another couple weeks when its about the only thing you can think about.” I let out a small sad groan, knowing that this aroused feeling is only going to get worse. “I wasn’t lying about the devotionals either. I need you to associate your sexy feelings to being feminine. Your audience is going to be mostly male and they’re going to look at you like a sex object. And you’ll be that sex object for them to get their money. I mean… you know me now. Do you think I like going out there online to thousands or tens of thousands of horny guys and act like a dumb bimbo? Does that sound like me? No, but it’s the role I play for the money I make.”

Just at that point I hear Sarah’s phone beep. When she glances at it she smiles, pats my hand again, and stands up. “Looks like we got a delivery, and it should fit into what we’re talking about nicely!”

She steps away toward the door, and I hear her dealing with a delivery person of some sort. I go over what we’ve said and can’t find fault in anything Sarah has said. In fact, it now makes more sense as I couldn’t ever square why she’d be mean when she’s so nice otherwise. But if that’s true, if I’m going along with her dominant nature, does that make me submissive? I’ve seen that kind of porn online and I haven’t ever associated myself with that side of that particular spectrum.

My thoughts are interrupted as Sarah returns with a box. Opening it up, I see that it’s the hormone treatments. Pulling out each medication we go over her notes and mentally make sure we know which is which. Just as Dr. Stevenson laid out there were bottles of pills labeled amlodipine and propranolol and a little bottle of benzylpenicillin that was for injection as well the needles and supplies required. Estrogen, Spironlactone, and Progesterone. All three of which would make me even more feminine. Sarah wrote on the lids of the pills, so we knew which to take when. With a sip of coffee I took the two pills as Sarah started to draw up the estrogen.

“Okay, you remember we need to inject this into your rear. But we’re going to use this as a learning opportunity. First, I don’t want you to doubt me. I want your trust, and that means you can ask questions if you doubt me. Like ‘Hey Sarah, there’s this big man at the door and I don’t trust that he’s the trainer you got for me.’ So, you’re going to get disciplined for NOT doing that.” Sarah scootches her chair back and pats her lap. “Why don’t you come over here and lay over my lap. Oh, and pull down your yoga pants.”

Disciplined? There’s no way that she could actually be thinking about… remembering that Sarah is actually encouraging me to ask questions I speak up quietly. “Umm… you’re not going to spank me, are you? This is just for the injection. Right?”

Sarah smiles and nods. “Yup, you’re going to get spanked just like a little girl who’s misbehaved. And before you ask, yes, this is to help you feel more girly. I’m sure you’ve watched plenty of porn where the girl gets spanked. Sometimes specifically laid over the guy’s lap but often just while they’re fucking. Well… you’re the girl now and when you’re a bad girl, you get spanked! Now don’t make this worse, get over here and get in position.”