Roxxy, a vision in stockings and garter belt, is guided by a velvety, commanding voice into a trance of submission. She's a whore now, a crossdressing slut paying for her space with her body. Her hands caress her curves, her hips sway, and she moans, 'I'm your toy, mistress, my cock aches for your touch.' She's lost in a world of lace and lace, her reality warped by the hypno's will, her payment for her room a dance of debasement and desire.