When she didn't move, his hand trailed across to her mons, with its sparse covering of dark brown hair. Again she made no move, since Monsignor Flavin...always told her what he wanted."Do you not open for me?" asked the Bishop."Of course, Sir," she said, widening her knees to allow his hand to slip between her thighs, "but the Master always tells me what to do, and doesn't like me to do things unless he tells me. He says it is disobedient for me to do what I want." He is quite right, my child.. Wilson's therapy! Sure, I knew at some point we would achievethat "breakthrough" Dr. Wilson spoke of and at that point mycrossdressing problem would be over. But I figured at that point my nolonger needing all these outfits wouldn't be a problem. I'd just givethem all back to Dr. Wilson, right?This went on for several months. Dr. Wilson was right, the dailysessions were very demanding. I wound up feeling both exhilarated andexhausted by it all. Those vitamin pills and nutritional shakes. More

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