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Trust
Date: 7/17/2015, Categories: BDSM, Shemales, Author: klammer, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster
that nether mutiny for me? Nancy and I both pretended we didn't notice that my cock rose as the panties did. "Can you do your makeup yourself?" Nancy asked, looking up from buckling the second shoe. I nodded. "No," the timid little voice said. "I don't think I can look in a mirror right now," she explained. Sweet gods of the mountains and forests, there was a little girl borrowing my voice! The Committee convened in great excitement, determined to do something about this open rebellion. Nancy smiled, kissed me on the cheek, and assured me, "I'll be right back." I suspect that I looked primly proper as she fixed my face for me. Completely passive, with my hands lying in my lap. It wasn't that I was getting into character, or anything. It was just that the Committee had decided to form a posse, or a lynch mob, and were hunting for that traitorous little girl. She must have had a lot of experience, hiding, though. Not only did Nancy do my makeup, she also put my hair up on the sides, with a pair of barettes, and added a pair of earrings. She finished, urged me to my feet, and had me twirl. Odd feeling, having a skirt brushing against my legs. And letting in a sort of draft. The Committee was still howling in pursuit. "Pink suits you, sweetie. You really should wear it more often. Are you going to start dinner now?" Timid little nod of the head. Ha! The mob recognized that mannerism, and roared off in pursuit. They got stunned into ... immobility in short order. Nancy keeps a full length mirror in her hall. You have to pass it, going from the bedroom or the bathroom to the kitchen or living room. The committee, roaring along in pursuit of the little girl, suddenly caught sight of me in that mirror. And every single one of them -- the Professor, the Observer, the Professional Cynic, the Codger, the Tough Guy, the Comedian, all of them -- suddenly found themselves in cute little pink dresses, and ran for cover. With a tinkling girlish giggle taunting them. Nancy led me by the hand to the kitchen. As she turned to leave, I blurted, "I look really ridiculous, don't I?" The last few steps, with the Committee mostly lying low, I'd noticed the skirt swaying against my legs, and the nylon covering my bottom, and I'd become aroused again, despite myself. Maybe it was just the sexual element that embarrassed me? Or maybe that was the element I was interested in? I shied away from enumerating the other possible elements. She slid her arms around my waist, hugged me tightly, and then leaned back to look in my face. "You look..." she said, slowly, with a long pause to make sure I was listening, and so she could judge my response, "like a sissy." She watched the blush rise in my face. I saw her, from the corner of my eye. "A very pretty, very desirable sissy," she added, as carefully as a chemist mixing nitric acid with sugar water. Blushes feel different, too. Was that one change from embarrassed ...