Robin and her mother

She was sitting at the kitchen table when I came out of the bathroom, and I went over to join her. She reached across the table to me and I met her hand with mine. She took it in both of hers and squeezed it. She didn't let it go, instead used her thumbs to slowly caress my hand while she looked at me.

"I've been so worried about you," she said, and I could see that she was the one getting emotional now.

I opened my mouth to reassure her but she shushed me and went on.

"I really should have put my foot down with your stepfather, but I was so taken aback by what you said that I floated along, completely lost. I want you to know I'm truly sorry and that I'll never abandon you."

Again I started to reassure her, and again she cut me off.

"I actually sat down and looked up the science of transgender and gay issues. Did you know there are hundreds of animal species that demonstrate homosexual behavior, and even some transgender animals as well. Well, there are, and I thought that if it exists in nature, it exists in humanity as well. It's not just some attention grabbing maneuver."

By the way she said those last three words, in a tone that sounded like Brian, she was letting me know that's what he said to her. I just sat there, dumbfounded. My mom was sweet, but she wasn't the type to really do research like that. Oh, she's a gifted cook and seamstress, and she will look up recipes or intricate sewing techniques, but to invest time in a political issue like that was just not like her. I was touched. She had done it for me, to fight back against the knee jerk rejection that they had put me through.

She squeezed my hand one more time, and then let go of it. I left it out there on the table, as if still seeking to have that human contact with her.

"So I've been worried about you," she said, "You hear about violence against trans women all the time, and the hateful speech, even on the news, makes it seem like you all are the last legitimate target of disrespect at that level. Like its not okay to be racist or misogynistic any more, but attacking trans people is completely acceptable."

In that moment, I was so proud of her. I knew that by 'the news' she meant Fox News, the only channel Brian would have on the TV, and I had seen plenty of examples of the kind of hate she was talking about, made all the more significant to me because I was trans. So for her to dissect that hate speech and speak to the issue like she had showed she had put some serious thought into the subject.

"Mom," I said, "I am so grateful for your support. I was heartbroken when you went silent, but you have made me feel loved, and more importantly, made me feel seen as I feel I truly am, and I want to say I'm proud of you and the thought you put into this."

She just smiled at me and I could tell she was getting really emotional. It was 'a moment' for us, not one I will ever forget. And then she blinked and looked at her watch.

"Oh my, look at the time. We're going to be late!" She said, and stood up.

"Late for what," I asked, standing and grabbing my jacket and sliding it on.

"Oh, it's a surprise. Just something fun for us to do together. If you like it, maybe we can make it something we do."

I knew better than to press her for more details. She wouldn't tell me. She always kept presents and other fun surprises secret. We left and I locked the door behind us. Down the stairs and out the door we went, and mom used her key fob to unlock the doors to her car.

We drove all the way out to near where I had grown up, chatting comfortably as we went. I told her about work, and how much more in tips I made now that I was presenting as Robin, and she told me about her friends and their kids. Basically all the hot gossip about people I barely remembered. It was nice; there was no pressure, just pointless chit chat with my mom. It was remarkable though, because it wasn't something we had ever shared before. Before, when I was Robert, she would talk to me differently. It was hard to describe the difference, but with Robin, mom was more open and at ease, and certainly more talkative. It was ... nice. A new dimension added to our relationship.

We pulled into a strip mall near home. The pizzeria where we got our pizzas when I lived at home was at one end of the strip. I had been here many times. But we were at the other end of the strip, and since I didn't think we were there to see an income tax preparer or buy a cake (the two stores on either side of the store we were parked in front of) I was guessing that our destination was 'Happy Nails 2', and we were here for some manicures.

Mom turned off the car and looked at me, and I found myself smiling, a big, toothy, happy smile. She smiled back and grabbed her purse.

"Come on then, daughter, lets go get some serious pampering."

We left the car and walked into the shop. The chemical smell was not overpowering, but it was certainly there. A Vietnamese lady looked up from the magazine she was reading and her face broke into a big smile. She came over and hugged my mom, exchanging greetings.

"Robin, this is Daisy Tran, who owns this shop. Daisy, this is my daughter, Robin." I acknowledged the introduction and the conversation zoomed past me, with my mom and the proprietor following their typical routine. I was struck however by the introduction my mother had made.

'My daughter' she had introduced me as, and it made everything seem more real, substantial. My senses heightened and I felt myself getting a little flushed, but I took a few deep breaths to get myself under control.

Fairly soon we were sitting at the little stations they had set up and someone else came out to help me. The actual manicure was kind of a blur. My mom and Mrs. Tran dominated the conversation while me and the lady helping me just went along with the flow. She expertly removed my current coat of nail polish, then took the time to file all my nails, trimming a few that apparently needed it.

Next came the soak, and it felt wonderful. When a suitable amount of time passed she pulled my hands out, dried them, then rubbed in some moisturizing cream, massaging each hand thoroughly. It felt wonderful, and I almost found myself giving off a little moan, but turned it into a hum. The lady working on my hands smiled at me, and I gave her a bright smile back. She then went to work on my cuticles, which I hadn't really addressed before, not knowing where to start, but I think I understood it after she got through with me.

Next came a base coat, applied to each nail, followed by a trip over to a wall of color. There were hundreds of bottles of nail polish, arranged in a rainbow of colors. I ended up choosing a bright red shade, which wasn't very original, but I thought it would work well with my black and white waitress uniform, which is what most people saw me in. Two coats of that later, and my nails looked fantastic. I was admiring them when the lady pulled out a set of small bottles and asked me to choose my topcoat. They looked like they ranged from matte to gloss, with some having sparkling iridescence suspended in them. I thought about it, and then just said for her to choose. She smiled at me and pretty soon I had a glossy top coat on my nails.

Mom was done shortly after me, and we laughed a conspiratorial laugh, like we had just gotten away with something. It felt good to get pampered, and I had to admit my nails looked better than I thought I would ever be able to get them to look.

Pedicures were next, and I slipped out of stockings in the bathroom. The process went much the same as the manicure, with my favorite part again being the massage. We sat in the high chairs, really closer to a chaise lounge than a chair, and let ourselves be taken care of. I chose the same color as for my nails, and before too long I was admiring my toenails. I had been painting them for years as it was something girly I could do that no one could see, but they never looked nearly as good as they did when I was done with the pedicure.

I pulled my stockings back on and attached them to the garters, the sheer material feeling amazing on my legs, then went back out into the shop. Mom was paying at the register and I walked over to her. She was signing the receipt, and we said our goodbyes after that, put our coats on and walked out into the cool October air.

"Thanks mom, that was so amazing."

"Oh honey, I'm happy to share that with you." she said, "do you think you'd like to do it again some time?"

"Oh yes!" I exclaimed. "I'd love to."

We got in the car and she smiled at me, really beaming, clearly happy with my reaction.

We drove back into the city, closer to where I lived than home, although further down town. She pulled up outside a restaurant and there was a valet stand there, manned by a couple of valets. We got out and mom took a ticket from the valet who then got behind the wheel and pulled away.

I had, of course, heard of this place. It was the new location for a restaurant group headed by a regionally famous chef. New American bistro was what he was aiming for, and the meal did not disappoint. Again, my mom dominated the conversation, but as we went through lunch I found myself opening up to her more and more. It just felt so nice, so right. She even asked if I had any boyfriends yet, and I just slyly hinted that I had someone in my life right now, but didn't elaborate. She winked at me, and we both laughed.

Too soon, lunch was over, and we were waiting for our car at the valet station. One of them had run off to get the car while the other waited there for anyone who might pull up. He was super cute, with a really nice ass, and mom and I caught each other checking him out. He must have thought we were crazy as when we did, we just looked at each other and burst out laughing.

The car came then, and we got in, still giggling a little.

Mom got somber as we rode back, though, and fell silent.

"What's wrong, mom?"

"Oh, nothing, it is just that this was so nice, but I can't share it with Brian, and that makes me sad. He really is a kind man; its just all the anti-trans garbage that he watches on the news that makes this situation so hard."

"It's fine, mom, really. I had a wonderful time, and look forward to the next time we can get together. So what if it's not Thanksgiving at home? I feel like, I don't know how to describe it, but I feel like our relationship changed today. I feel so close to you, and I don't want you to worry about trying to get Brian to come around."

That made her smile, but her eyes were still sad. We talked a little bit more, but soon enough she was pulling up in front of my building. She got out of the car with me and gave me a big hug.

"I love you, and I think you're a lovely young woman. I can't wait till next time."

"Love you too, mom," I said, "and I can't either. Just let me know when and I'll arrange my schedule so I have the time free."

She kissed my cheek, then got back in her car, which was double parked. I waved at her as she drove away, stopping to think about the day. Just as I was turning to go to my apartment, I heard someone call my name.

"Robin," James said. He was standing in the door to the restaurant, waving me over.

I approached and he looked relieved.

"I just got a call from Marjorie that she can't make it. I know you're off today, but can you take the shift?"

I sighed, pretending to not want to, and he looked crestfallen. Then I smiled at him and nodded.

"Of course, I didn't have any plans anyway." I said, and he was visibly relieved.

"Good, I wasn't going to ask you because that would make six days in a row for you, but I called everyone else, then saw you out there and thought I'd ask. Who was that with you?"

"Oh, that was my mom, we went out today." I must have been beaming at him because he smiled at me.

"That's great," he said, "I guess things are better on the home front then?"

I had told him I wasn't welcome at home at some point and it was nice of him to say something.

"Getting better," I said, "getting better. Okay, I have to go get changed and ready for work. I'll see you around 4."

That night flew by, and I told Lucy about my girls day out with my mom and she was of course very happy for me. I was supposed to be off again the next day but Lucy asked if I could cover for her. It was a week straight, and I was scheduled for the next three days as well. My check was going to be massive, at least.

A few days later James called me into his office as I was leaving work.

"I'm taking you off the schedule for tomorrow," he said, "That would be ten days in a row and I'm pretty sure I'd be breaking some labor laws if I let you work that much. Besides, you must be exhausted."

I was secretly relieved, because I was starting to get worn out. This would actually give me two days off in a row, which would be nice.

"Thanks," I said, "I really appreciate it. I mean, the fat paycheck will be nice, but I could really use some time off."

I turned to leave, but James stopped me.

"Say, I don't want to bother you on your days off, but I was wondering if you were busy after work?"

I paused by the door. It was weird, hearing him say that. To date, all communications like that had come via text, and to have him ask me at work seemed a little jarring. I must've paused for a while because he coughed and then spoke.

"Well, I'll understand if you don't have the time," he said, a little embarrassed.

"No no," I said, "It's fine. Just give me a little while and then I'll text you."

"Great," he said, "oh, and one more thing. The stuff that was in the dresser when you moved in; you still have it, right?"

I blushed, thinking about the bondage gear now stowed in the back of my closet.

"Yes," I said, visibly uncomfortable.

"Good," he said, "just checking."

I left then and finished up work, closing out my register with James as usual.

I headed upstairs and thought about his question and what it meant. Was I ready for him to ... what? Tie me up and fuck me? Whip me with the flogger or riding crop? I found that I did trust him enough for that, and I also found that thinking about it aroused me. I had fantasized about getting dominated for years, so the more I thought about it the more it seemed like wish fulfillment.

I took a quick shower, cleaned out and plugged up, then I went to the closet to get the stuff out from it's spot in the back of the closet. I hadn't really thought about it since I put it there. I dragged the bag over to the table and opened it up, balancing it on one of the chairs. I took out the bag inside it and opened it up, pulling out the body harness I remembered. I contemplated putting it on but decided against it. It looked too complicated and I didn't want to keep him waiting too long. I put the harness away in its bag and then put the whole thing up on the kitchen table.

I went back over to the closet and picked out the French maid outfit. I thought that might be nice for tonight. It came complete with frilly crotchless knickers and a set of petticoats. I put the outfit on, finishing by pinning up my hair under the frilly mob cap. Then I texted James and waited.

The waiting was always interesting. He never made me wait long, but sometimes it felt interminable. Mostly when I was really, really horny. I wasn't so much right now, because I was feeling kind of worn out, but still, it seemed to take an hour for the fifteen minutes I waited to pass. I filled the time by scrolling on Instagram, mostly reels about naughty dogs for some reason.

I was starting to think I needed to text James again when I heard him knock at the door. I picked up the feather duster that went with my outfit and walked over to the door on a pair of six inch platform patent leather stiletto heels. I opened the door, and he was there. He wasn't aggressive or anything, like he sometimes was, but rather he just stood there and looked me up and down. Due to the heels, we were about eye-level, and he apparently liked what he saw because he gave me a nice low whistle and called me beautiful.

I stepped back to make way for him and he came into my place. I closed the door and walked over to the kitchen table where I had left the bag full of toys.

"You were asking about these, so I thought I'd get them out for you," I said and flipped open the bag to show the various cuffs, gags, whips and other toys.

He walked over and looked down at them, then looked over at me again. I smiled at him, a smile meant to convey I liked what I saw in the bag. He smiled back at me, reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of leather cuffs, with one large and one small cuff on each pair. Then he took me by the upper arm and guided me over to the bed. I stood there, my legs pressed up against the side of the bed, and he gently pushed me over until I was bent over at the waist, face down on the bed.

"Give me your left hand," he said, and when I did, I felt him strap my left wrist with one of the cuffs.

"Now your right," he said, and when I did he put the other set of cuffs on my right wrist.

Then I felt him press up against my ass, and he bent over me. I could feel his cock through his trousers, semi erect and pressing into my ass. I pressed back against him, grinding my ass against him. He laughed and swatted my ass through the ruffles of the petticoat.

Then he took my left arm and brought it across my back and up, and I felt him slip the other cuff around my right upper arm. Then he did the same with my right arm and I was tightly bound, my arms up and crossing behind my back. This had the effect of pulling my shoulders back, pushing my chest out. I was still face down on the bed, but now I was essentially helpless, trying to balance on my heels.

He stepped back from me and there came a pause. I couldn't see him, and I couldn't hear him doing anything. The only thing I could think of was that he was standing back and admiring his handiwork. Then I felt him reach his hands down and he started caressing my ass, rubbing me all over, and sliding his hands down and around to where my genitals hung free through the crotchless panties. I felt him take the plug and pull it gently out, then work it back in, all while he was stroking my balls and tickling at my cock. He continued to do that, working it in and out and stroking my penis, and I felt my breath get short. It felt so good. I was helpless and he was taking great care to give me pleasure.

After a few minutes of that, he stopped, and I moaned out a long sigh. He put the plug on my bedside table and then stepped back behind me. I felt him wipe the lube from around my ass with something then I heard him get down on his knees. He lifted my skirt and petticoat out of the way and before I could take another breath his tongue slipped into my ass. It felt so incredible I let out a long moan and momentarily struggled against my bonds, wanting to grab something and squeeze it to control the feelings I was having.

He went in and out and swirled his tongue around and my breath came in sharp gasps. It felt so amazing I barely noticed that he had taken up my cock and started stroking it in time with the action of his tongue.

I entered an almost trancelike state, the physical feelings of his ministrations driving me crazy. Being bound helpless, bent over the bed, balancing on those platform heels while he drove his tongue in and out of my ass and stroked my cock all combined into a sensory cocktail that drowned out thought and all other feeling. I certainly lost my sense of time, as each moment was an overbearing festival of sensation.

I realized I was hard and getting close to orgasm, and that almost broke the spell, but not quite. In the end, when I came, it was a sudden, amazing tripwire effect, so much different than any other orgasm I had ever had. I heard myself scream when I came, and felt the briefest of pauses in his tongue's motion, but that didn't break the spell. I ended up pumping wave after wave of cum down onto the ground and my scream petered out into a thin wail. I shuddered when I was done, and he stopped tonguing me and stood up. I felt myself still leaking and almost numb in and around my crotch.