In the dimly lit room, you're bound by silken ropes, your wrists and ankles secured to a St. Andrew's cross. Mistress stands before you, a sadistic grin on her face. She trails a riding crop along your skin, making you shiver. "You're my little sissy boy now," she purrs, caressing your hardening cock. She commands you to suck her fingers, to taste yourself. You comply, feeling a strange mix of humiliation and arousal. She laughs, "That's it, my pet. You're learning." She slaps your cock with the crop, making you gasp. "And this," she says, holding up a pair of panties, "is your new underwear."