1. A Trip to the Bathroom


    Date: 7/28/2015, Categories: Anal, Fetish, First Time, Author: klammer, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    around my right ankle, from it hangs a one inch wide silver disk bearing the engraved inscription: SISSY ALAN PERSONAL SEX SLAVE OF MASTER JOHN My legs are encased in bright white back seamed stockings. The toes of the stockings are visible, as are my garish pink painted toenails, through the open toes of the hideous pink open toed, horrendously high-heeled, ankle strapped pumps. My surprisingly shapely legs disappear, eventually under the too short hemline of the tight little supple black leather mini I am f***ed to wear, the little skirt’s hem refusing to stay down far enough to cover the tops of my lacey stocking tops. My butt, now much enlarged and changed through the constant diet of powerful female hormones I am fed, strains the leather of the skirt, clearly revealing the outline of my red suspender belt and scarlet thong, which serves to trap my now pathetic excuse for a penis. My balls now remaining almost permanently f***ed back up their cavities and out of sight, leaving a very passable impression of a pouting female pussy through the tightly stretched nylon of my thong panties. A terrifically reduced waist, primarily through hormones, diet, and exercise, plus the effects of the ever present corset blooms upwards to where the eyes are immediately drawn to a very impressive, and one hundred percent feminine, pair of beautifully presented breasts. A filmy white blouse does very little to conceal their splendor below and behind the frothy white lace around the very ...
    open cleavage. Framed in a dark red low cut brassiere, a pair of very perky looking 36D breasts wobble and quiver with my every movement as I strain to remain holding the cold beer in my outstretched pose. My nipples are still clearly discernable, even through the thick lace of my bra cups, jutting forth a full inch when fully aroused: a condition Master likes to see me in the majority of the time. Nestling between my heavily perfumed and bountiful breasts, nestle five heavy gold chain necklaces. Each wrist is further encumbered by a loudly jangling assortment of equally cheap looking bracelets, and as many as thirteen rings adorn my fingers and thumbs. My nails, painted the same hideously bright and vivid pink as my toes, curl an appalling full inch and a half beyond my fingertips. My head is worse. Firstly, it is now covered on top by a horrid mass of long platinum blond curls piled high in that classic white trash look: 'Big Hair'. My face is covered in a thick creamy coat of foundation, my cheeks a ceaseless parody of a female blush. The worst liberties have been taken with my eyes and lips. Both now sport permanent makeup, courtesy of a lengthy visit to Master's friends tattoo parlor. Now thick black lines line each eye, finishing up with an exaggerated Egyptian tick. My lips are equally horrendously outlined in a dark red, serving to accentuate the ridiculous collagen inject lips I now sport. Even without another touch of makeup, the tattoos serve to render my face ...
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