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When she invited me to dinner at her place, I thought she just wanted to thank me. I had no idea what she was hiding under that pencil skirt, or how far she was willing to go.

I’d spent months begging her for a session. When I finally stepped into her studio, I understood she hadn’t summoned me to photograph her, but to teach me obedience.

The feel of her hand when she shook mine was like a jolt. I offered her a ride and, on that dirt road, discovered something I’d denied for years.

I had barely gone a few steps when my phone started vibrating nonstop. It was her, and she wasn’t going to let me get away that easily that night.

I found her biting her lip in front of the mirror, wearing her bikini, her crotch already wet. I wasn’t going to wait for her to be ready.

I’d known Esteban for years, but that stifling afternoon I discovered his house held a secret that would change our friendship forever.

I had kept my secret hidden at the back of the closet for months. That night I opened the door in a pleated skirt and red bow—and never wanted to turn back.

I took off my trousers in the passageway, stowed them in my backpack, and pushed open the gate. I knew exactly what awaited me upstairs—and it drove me wild.

I arrived at his door trembling, unaware that a cheap dress and plastic heels would change everything I thought I knew about myself that night.

I went into the bathroom as a man and came out in a minidress and platforms. My girlfriend was waiting in the room with three strangers and a smile that said it all.

I followed her upstairs with my eyes fixed on her skirt, never imagining that I wouldn’t be the one making the decisions that night.

I was wearing my favorite dress the day those two men understood, without me saying a word, exactly what I was willing to give them.

I want to put on my wig, do my makeup, and surrender to a stranger who has read my stories. One night, no commitments, before it’s too late.

I dressed up like never before to see him: miniskirt, heels, wig. What I didn’t expect was his sister showing up and, with one look, reading everything we were hiding.

Three weeks without hearing from him, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I texted “hiii,” and his reply reminded me of the only thing I was to him: his obedient slut.

I tied him up so he wouldn’t bite me. I washed him among the ruins. What I discovered that night between the empty shelves changed who I was forever.

I was sitting in the round sofa in the back, my legs crossed and my glass half empty, when I saw the curly-haired guy set down his drink and walk straight toward me.

When I heard the corn vendor’s cart, I only thought about satisfying a craving. What I didn’t expect was for his night to end in my kitchen, looking at me like I was dessert.

Under my button-down there’s lace. Under my dress pants, fishnet stockings and garters. My coworkers see Matías. I know who I really am.

As a closet cross-dresser, I went to the most important interview of my career with lace panties under my suit. I thought no one would know. I was wrong.