The memory of their meeting carved a smile on his soft lips. He turned into their bedroom, opened the large sliding closet door and began hanging her ...hings up neatly. The smells of leather and rubber assaulted him as he filed the garments away. Fetish attire made up almost half of their wardrobe.The task done, the still-young man turned to look at the full length mirror by their bed. There he was, his best self, thanks to Mistress Janet. Only the thick leather collar around his neck and his. She was clad in a simple black skirt and a plain white blouse with a black lace shawl draped about her shoulders. In her hands, she carried a small bouquet of dying roses. Her limbs felt heavy with her grief as she climbed the steps. As she trod upon the final tread, her legs succumbed to her lethargy and she collapsed. She lay weeping in the snow, missing a mother she never had and a father gone too soon. She felt a gentle, but firm hand on her shoulder and raised her head. He was clad all in. More

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