1. Trust


    Date: 7/17/2015, Categories: BDSM, Shemales, Author: klammer, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    Trust (Transvestite, Hetero sex, Spanking) This story contains elements of cross-dressing, a somewhat dominant female, and a rather submissive and effeminate male. If such things make you want to toss cookies, don't read it, eh? This story also contains one fairly graphic scene of eroticism between two consenting adults. If *that* squicks you, what the hell are you doing on this group? Grow up and get a life. Part 1: The File on Lee I was pretty tired when I got to Nancy's. Long day with the little darlings (that's undergraduates to the uninitiated), including some of those sessions where the pretty little defenseless undergrad girl tries the old Higher Grades Through Salt Water trick. Tears, that is. I hate that. I hear that they've nicknamed me &#034Old Stoneface,&#034 because I freeze up and turn sour when the faucets start to leak. Anyway, I was definitely in the mood for a little sympathy. &#034Nance?&#034 I called, as I entered. And I owed her an apology for being late. I could smell food from the kitchen; we had an agreement that we wouldn't fall into the stereotypical male-female chore division, and tonight was my night to cook (So why was I supposed to be cooking at her house, and why did we spend 90% of our time together there? After all, she'd end up cleaning up any long-term messes, and by default keeping the place up. I can hear you sneering. Well, there *was* a reason. Basically, I'm a slob, and she hated it so much that she'd either have to clean it up, or ...
    suffer. She refused to do either, so except for rare occasions when I got active and cleaned things up, we stayed at her house). &#034There's some stuff for you on the couch!&#034 she called back, cheerily. Sounded cheerful to me, anyway. I felt warmed a little; she sometimes bought things for me, totally spur of the moment. I stopped cold when I saw what was on the couch, though. A pink satin little girl's party dress, the kind with puffy sleeves and big white satin floppy bows on the skirt. My heart stopped beating for a moment, until I realized that it couldn't be for me. She didn't *know*, after all; she *couldn't* know. She must have bought it for herself. Not really her style, of course. I noticed matching shoes, little pink patent-leather flats, with white bows, and relaxed. She was doing a Little Bo-Peep costume, or something. Not my concern. Whatever she meant for me must be somewhere else on the couch. So I stepped closer, and spotted it. There were some packages and stuff, but they obviously went with the dress. The stuff for me must be the stack of paper. It was enormous, too -- at least a ream there, I guessed. I picked up the top sheet, and my heart stopped again. I guess maybe it shouldn't have started after the first time. I was still standing there, in shock, with the sweat pouring down my face and my gut feeling as if someone had rudely used it for batting practice, when her voice, behind me, snapped me out of it. &#034Are you going to change for dinner?&#034 ...
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