She laughed and brought her hand to my face and kissed me. "No, I'm sorry there's no medicine, and the only cure is to feed the fetish." "Feed it?" I ...sked. "Yes, that means to allowing it to happen, to take its course." "And that means?" I asked. "That means that I'll be more understanding and sympathetic to your needs." With that said, she sat up and went to her dresser. I stared at her sexy nylon legs and feet as she took out a few pairs of pantyhose and handed them to me. She said that this. She reaches behind me casually and gently takes my hands in hers. ?So I’ve been thinking,? she says. I feel something tight slip around my wrists and suddenly I can’t move my hands; they’re bound palms together behind my back. My heart picks up speed. ?I’ve got a proposition for you,? she continues, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I see something black being tossed back and forth in her hands and suddenly I can’t see. Some sort of half hood slides down over my. More

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