Sex stories

Erotic fiction and short sex stories




Changes Ch. 08

Author's Notes:

(1) As a summary to date, Steve has now been methodically changed into a consensually obedient sexual partner and loving spouse for Sarah. His cross dressing habit dove-tailed nicely with Sarah's latent desire to dominate. They needed each other now more than ever before. She played him like a fiddle, introducing bondage and erotic humiliation as tools to dominate him, and he began to look at life from the other side now, the submissive traditionally female side, and the wall dividing his duality of genders began to fade and rebuild behind him as he changed, all retreat to the past blocked as he slid uncontrollably, but joyfully, into the future.

(2) Even though I have given you a summary above, please read the earlier chapters, as they fill in the blanks way more eloquently than this brief discussion.


*****

The next step in our life together was logical and obvious. At least looking back, it had to happen. I had only been corseted for a week or so when Sarah came home from work on a Tuesday night and declared, "I've invited Julie and Mitch over for supper, wine and a movie on Friday night. We haven't seen them in months, not since you started being Stephanie."

I poured her a glass of wine and sat down with her at the kitchen island. I still wasn't accustomed to the rigidity of the corset and I sat ramrod straight, with my breasts flipping upwards so that I couldn't see my feet which were crossed at the ankles under the bar stool. I never got tired of the feeling and sound of my nylons slipping past each other as I sat in this way.

Her declaration didn't startle me, but I wondered aloud, "Okay. It'll be good to see them. Thanks for the warning. I'll have to remember to take my nail polish off. I wonder what would hide my corset best. Any ideas? By the way, where did you put my men's clothes? Jeez, it's been awhile."

Sarah took a sip of wine and said, "Stephie, really? I invited them over to meet YOU, not Steve. You can cook your best dish, the stroganoff, and then we can all get used to the idea of having Stephie around instead of Steve. It's time, well past time."

I was aghast. "What? Have you told them about me Sarah? Have you?"

"No," she said coyly, "Not quite everything. They know you dress up, but I didn't share our sex life, if that's what you mean."

I was irritated. "Not QUITE everything? So, they think I'm a... Sarah, I'm not a..." Then I must have looked like I had been struck by lightning.

Sarah laughed and prompted, "A transvestite, a woman?"

I sat in confused silence. I hadn't worn men's clothes for months now. I was corseted and I had polished gel nails. My body hair had been removed by blade and chemical, my own hair was long and styled, and I wore makeup daily. The only things that had yet to be done to me were plucking my eyebrows, getting breast implants, and hormone replacement therapy; otherwise, for all intents and purposes, I was female.

She continued, "Well, what are you then, if you're not a woman or a transvestite? A drag queen? No, I wouldn't allow it. A man? Physically, yes. But really? Dressing and acting like you do? If you cut your balls and penis off, no one would know the difference (well, I would in bed) ; you're living as a female now, aren't you? Admit it for God's sake, so we can get on with life and have friends over! Be what you want to be! I don't care if you pick and choose whether you want to be a man or a woman on any given day, but we have to have a social life. And that means our friends have to know."

It felt like I was talking to Captain Obvious suddenly, or like I had been slapped on the forehead by someone saying, "Snap out of it! This is not a dream!"

"You mean just be either male or female, anytime and anywhere I want to be? Honestly, I never thought I had a choice like that; I just assumed it was one or the other on a permanent basis but only in certain situations. I don't know what I was thinking really. I just, I thought, I just assumed we could go on like this forever, just you and me, like this..." I looked down at my skirt for reference.

Sarah just frowned and tilted her head at me.

"Oh my God!" I gasped, "I have to come out, don't I? I mean, really out. Oh shit."

Sarah was forceful, vulgar, and blunt. "Yes, you fucking well have to! You have three choices: (1) you stop being a woman and we go back to the way it was before; or (2) you continue to be a woman and keep it confined to just behind closed doors; or (3) you continue to be a woman and you come out of the closet to our friends and the world. I don't think the first two options are viable, and quite frankly those two options will likely mean that we split up; it's inevitable, even though we love each other; it's just unsustainable. Sometimes it works that way. The third option means that you can choose to be a woman when you want to be, any place, any time, and with anyone we choose...total freedom."

I started pacing nervously, but with increasing excitement. "That would be freeing, wouldn't it?" I said, smiling sheepishly at Sarah.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "No kidding. We haven't been with our friends for months and I'm tired of making excuses. I told Julie you'd be dressed to the nines on Friday, but they didn't need to be. They'll be here at 6:00."

"What did they say? I mean, what did they say when you told them about me?"

Sarah laughed. "That was the funny part. They already knew. They came by one day when I was at work to say hello to you and just as they were about to ring the bell, they peeked through the glass in the front door and saw you. They left, too embarrassed to follow through or even mention it to me until I told them all about you. Funny, huh?"

"Yeah, real funny. Ha. Ha. Ha," I said in deadpan, "I must admit, it'll be good to see them. But jeez, now I know how Caitlin Jenner felt. There's fantasy and then there's the real world. We can never live in isolation can we? And we have to be ourselves."

I stopped pacing. "You're right, of course. So be it! Friday night."

Friday arrived and I had the stroganoff ready by 5:00, giving me enough time to change out of my maid's outfit that Sarah had locked onto me with mocking glee that morning. She told me that if I didn't do a good job housecleaning and preparing the meal, I would have to present myself like this to Julie and Mitch. She enjoyed threatening me like that, and I always got a rush from the humiliation of it even though we both knew it was a dance we did together and we liked the same music. She wouldn't really follow through on her promise. At least I don't think she would. Actually I'm not sure. Anyway, the cleaning was done well, and the meal was tasted and declared okay by my "mistress", as I sometimes called her now. We laughed and she said, "Now I'll dress you up for the change of your life. Go take your corset off and get showered. I have an extra surprise for you too."

I smiled and shook my head. Never a dull moment with this woman.

When I was done showering and shaving my legs, chest and underarms, I saw her through the steam of the glass shower door leaning against the bathroom doorway with a mischievous look on her face. As I dried myself, she sprung her surprise. "You remember that teensy-weensy little steel butt plug you wore when we first went out as women, the time we met Roger and Gord?"

"Yeah, why?" I said with trepidation.

"Well, this is the grand-daddy of that one and most others."

There it was, an overwhelming looking stainless steel device with a tapered head about an inch and a half in diameter, and an angled shank which graded into an actual handle so that the user could hold it more easily as it was being inserted or worked around.

"Seriously?" I said, "That's huge!"

"Yup. Sure is. Heavy too. And it's angled so it'll press on your prostate constantly from what I've read. I hear that can drive a man wild. You'll be dripping in your panties all night."

My lips curled back in fear as I said, "Umm, just how am I going to get that thing into my ass? Jesus, it's big!"

"Get on your hands and knees," Sarah said with a grin, "And don't call me Jesus; I'm your Goddess."

I was used to obeying her now when she got in these fanciful moods. It was always good for me when I did and it never was when I didn't. It took a ton of lube and lots of time and patience before she finally popped it in, relieving the intense pain from expansion of my anal area to allow the bulbous business end to pass. Once it was inserted however, it smoothly slipped right up against my prostate. I gasped and moaned with a pleasure I had never felt before. The weight of it was immediately noticeable, and when I stood up straight and moved my hips a bit it seemed to move in a way independent of my own movements, always stroking, touching, massaging. I immediately relaxed after it popped in, and the breadth of the head allowed it to stay in without me even tightening my sphincter. It just hung there, unable to exit because of its breadth. Miraculously it didn't hurt; it only stimulated like an electric current.

Sarah laughed and said, "Wow, once it got past the point of no return, it almost went in like it was pulled by a magnet. Good thing it has a wide handle; it would have disappeared. The lady at the store told me to tell you to do some deep knee bends to allow it to settle in where it should be."

I did and I immediately started to moan and whimper like a little girl. My penis stood at attention and I wanted to come desperately. "Jesus...uh, I mean Goddess! I had no idea this could feel like this. Maybe a little delight before they arrive?" I said hopefully and breathlessly.

Sarah gave me that look and said, "No, not now. Think about your evening. You're going to be sitting down on that butt plug all evening and every time you get up, it'll shift until you sit on it again and shove it in so deeply and it's going to feel so, so good, isn't it? Later tonight, you're going to want to be fucked so badly. Aren't you baby?"

"I hope you don't mean what I think you mean," I said. But secretly I did. Her voice was so smooth and teasing and authoritative and full of absolute confidence. Julie and Mitch were but sideshows to what was going to happen when they left, and Sarah made sure that I would be reminded of that every time I sat down or shifted in my seat. Delicious torture. All evening. A double whammy of coming out with my fetishes, with the overhanging promise of unknown sexual pleasures or tortures later.

This evening I attached my silicone padding and my breasts to my skin with a special temporary surgical adhesive that Sarah had found. That allowed me to wear only a small panty girdle to hide my penis, instead of the much larger long-leg girdle I was accustomed to. I stood up and put my arms up as Sarah laced me back into my corset.

God I loved it even then, long before I reduced my waist to what it is now. As Sarah laced it ever tighter, I got that exquisite feeling of rigidity that I craved, combined with the submission of will that it demanded. My waist was nipped by about three inches that night and my hips felt compressed as well, causing my butt cheeks to push together and bury the butt plug even further within me. When I put my arms down, my chest was already puffed out from displacement of stomach flesh, and the silicone breast forms jutted upward with a perky attitude. The fatty tissue now under them caused them to bounce freely, pulling on my upper pectoral muscles almost painfully with the weight because of the adhesive. They were supported only when I cradled them in the cups of the pink bra. After pulling up my Lycra reinforced shimmer black stockings and fastened them to the garters, I looked like a hooker in a brothel waiting for a client.

I sighed with contentment. I never felt better than when I was fully confined in girdles or corsets; there's no better feeling than to be freed in this way, a paradox of enslavement and freedom, the puzzle that was me.

Tonight I wore a white form fitting blouse which was actually a body suit with snaps at the crotch to keep it in place. Sarah had been complaining that I was being sloppy lately with letting my blouses escape over top of my skirts. Ruined the look, she said. I snapped it in place and wiggled a bit to let it settle where it should. My breasts were so prominent that it was almost embarrassing, like being nude, and the long sleeves were tight to my skin as well, ending with a touch of lace at the wrists. Sarah had chosen a skirt that had no chance of revealing my penis underneath, as it flared from the waist and hung in vague pleats. It was a heavy satin-like fabric and draped nicely from my hips to mid-thigh. Every step I took caused the weight of it to slap into my thighs, but at least it didn't hobble my gait like many of the pencil skirts and dresses that Sarah liked me to wear each evening.

Sarah stood back and thought about my look, left the room and came back with a wide red elastic belt which she fastened around my waist, drawing attention to my pinched figure. It matched perfectly with the bright red fingernail polish and the red sandal foot stilettos which I now fastened with a dainty strap around my ankles.

By the time I completed my makeup and fixed my hair, it was almost time. I sipped on a glass of Pinot Grigio while Sarah, the ultimate female, made it all look easy, just slipping into some Lulu Lemon tights and top with a wrap skirt and sandals. A touch of makeup and a brush of her hair and she was done.

And I was overdressed.

She looked at me and smiled. "Don't worry. I told them you liked to dress up, I mean, really dress up."

She saw my look of apprehension. I wanted to get drunk.

"Yes, they'll be shocked, I know. Everyone will be, especially the guys. By the way, that reminds me, I've invited a different set of friends over every Friday night for the next few weeks, so everyone can meet Stephanie. After all that we can have a party with whoever remains friends with us, maybe a barbeque in the backyard. You can decide for yourself whether you want to be a woman for the big barbeque or not, because by that time, you'll be completely out of the closet; you can be who you want and choose to be. No more skulking around behind closed doors."

"I feel like a pervert," I said. I slurped the wine. Those old feelings of shame and guilt rose up like a tsunami, ready to wash me out to sea.

Sarah had a way of helping me that was unique. "Oh honey," she soothed, "You are a pervert. So what. I love you. I guess that makes me a pervert too, and the way I've been getting off on this lately, that certainly is true. But perverts walk alone; the perverted part ends when you come out of the closet. We'll find out who our friends are, who they really are. Won't we?" She touched her lips to mine so as not to mess up our lipsticks, and left to answer the doorbell.

The doorbell. Jesus. My pulse raced.

I walked behind her to the door and stood shaking in my high heels as Julie and Mitch entered, first handing Sarah a bottle of her favorite Shiraz. There was an awkward moment and then Sarah and Julie embraced, followed by Sarah and Mitch. That left me to wait for favors, and they came instantly and warmly.

Julie said, "Steve, Stephanie, whatever...you look beautiful! Absolutely gorgeous! How do you do this? Incredible! And what have you done with Steve?" And she gave me a warm hug and a peck on the cheek while touching me affectionately at my new feminine waist.

I laughed nervously and said, "Well, thanks. Believe me, it's harder for me than you. I don't have the canvas to start with that you do. You look great."

Mitch was six foot six and carried 240 pounds. He came forward warmly but awkwardly, first putting out his hand for a manly handshake, then pulling it back and after shuffling briefly, hesitantly giving me a light hug, our hips three miles apart.

"Well," he said, "That was weird. Uh, you look great I guess. Unbelievable actually. I mean, as a woman. You look like a woman. Jesus, are those real?" He pointed at my breasts. He was like that, direct and innocent like a child.

I laughed and said, "My little secret, among others. How've you been buddy? I've been, umm, sort of distracted for the past few months becoming, uh, this."

"Jesus Steve, I would never have guessed this of you. I must admit, I don't understand it, but whatever...it's still you I guess."

I started to feel a little better then, and I took the wine from Sarah and invited everyone to the living room while I opened the wine in the kitchen. From there I yelled in to the other room, "And Mitch, tonight I'm Stephanie. Any slip ups on that and you'll have to chug a glass of wine."

I didn't see him, but I heard him laugh and say, "Well, bring that wine in here right now...STEVE." And so the ice was broken. I couldn't believe it; they accepted me for who I was, and it was a huge relief.

As we got into the wine we sat around and caught up on the details of our lives over the last few months. It was easy talk, but I did notice Mitch occasionally staring at my waist or my breasts or legs. Finally, and because Mitch was simply like this, he asked me some questions. When he started everyone groaned.

"So, Stephanie," he said, "I have to know. How the heck do you do it? You've got hips and breasts and a waist. And your face...you look so, uh, female. Have you had a bunch of surgery or something?"

Coming from anyone else I would have been insulted and put off, but this was Mitch and he harmlessly needed to know. I smiled and said, "No surgery. Just silicone breast inserts and some silicone hip padding, and I, uh, I wear, I wear a corset." I felt awkward talking about my underwear.

"A corset? Really? All the time?"

"Yes."

"And you wear a bra and panties, stuff like that?"

I was laughing and red-faced under my makeup. "Yes."

Then he asked a question I couldn't answer, "So, is this permanent, or are you just having fun finding your feminine side?"

"Uh," I said, "Good question." I looked at Sarah and hoped she would step in. She didn't. She wanted to know too I guess. "I'd say permanent if it didn't sound so final."

I didn't know how absurd that statement sounded until everyone started laughing. Yogi Berra would have been proud of me. But for me, I meant every word and it seemed correct in every sense. I was afraid that if I said it was permanent, then it would be, and Steve would be lost forever. I wasn't quite ready for that.

"The corset is permanent," I offered weakly, "I like the way it feels."

There was disbelief at this and an awkward silence ensued as Julie processed how she hated the feel of the corset she wore for Mitch once in a while for special sexual occasions, and as Mitch tried to process why any man would want to wear one as an accessory to becoming a woman.

Sarah stepped in and asked me to get the supper on the table while the three of them sat at their places. I found this mildly humiliating, as it was intended, and I noticed that Mitch was puzzled by this division of labor now exposing itself in our house, but he remained kind and good humored as I brought the food to the table. Sarah poured the wine all around and the real fun started. These were friends. And it was clear that they would remain our friends.

Meanwhile the butt plug periodically caused me to gasp or lose my train of thought, especially if I sat down in the middle of a sentence. My breath would quicken and sometimes I would visibly shiver with lust. There were the occasional puzzled looks from Julie and Mitch, but they must have assumed that my corset had pinched or something, because they said nothing. At these times I would glance at Sarah and she would only smile sweetly at me and wink.

The last part of the evening was deviously planned by Sarah. She told everyone that there were a few pieces of paper inside an old hat, each piece having a name of an old movie on it. However, some were blank. Steve drew a blank. Julie drew a blank. I drew a blank. Miraculously, and as planned, only Sarah pulled one out with a movie name on it.
"Well, what do you know? We have a choice here. We're either watching "Tootsie" or "Mrs. Doubtfire" tonight!" she said with a laugh.

The rest of the night was like a public roasting for me, a friendly one, embarrassing at times, but always friendly. I found it erotic that they all felt comfortable enough with me as Stephanie, to tease me like they did, or maybe it was that damn butt plug just keeping me on the edge that made the evening erotic and full of promise. My occasional trips to the washroom were exercises in self-restraint as I desperately wanted to touch myself and masturbate as I sat to pee. I never stood to pee any more mainly because of all the paraphernalia I wore now, the skirts, panties, girdles and pantyhose. It was far easier to sit.

At long last they left, and after a few quiet moments sipping our wine, Sarah left for the bedroom while I cleaned up in the kitchen. I hurried around, hoping desperately that she hadn't forgotten her promise and simply gone to bed, but I needn't have worried. Just as I was finishing up, she came into the dimly lit living room and I saw her from behind wearing a pair of black lace panties and a matching bra. She was blowing out a candle. I stopped what I was doing instantly and went to her like a moth to a flame; the dishes could wait.

She must have heard me coming but she didn't turn until I kissed her shoulder. She turned to face me and that's when I felt it. I recoiled and looked down at a large strap on dildo that was fastened with a black harness around her hips.

She kissed my lips and pressed the large phallus against me saying, "I'm going to fuck you in a way that you have never been fucked before baby." Her voice was soft but husky. "And the butt plug has been preparing you for this all night, hasn't it?" She reached behind me where the handle of the anal plug made a slight bulge in my girdle and she pushed it in farther as she lunged into me. "You want it now, don't you?"

I shuddered with a mix of complex feelings at that moment, lust as my prostate responded, dread as I feared being penetrated by her cock as if I were gay. I groaned and shook as she placed her lips on mine and our lipsticks merged in a greasy paradox of feelings. I pulled away, but just barely.

"Sarah, you mean, you want to...you're gonna fuck me with that? Like I'm gay? My God, I don't know. I'm not sure...I, uh, jeez Sarah..." I felt my face flush and my skin felt like a light hot mist had been sprayed over it. My breath quickened.

She ignored me and said nothing as she led me to the bedroom. The butt plug seemed to swell within me and conspired with Sarah to force me to give in. She unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor, and while the silicone penis swung about slapping me in the crotch and my thighs, she pulled my belt and top off so that I stood there in my girdle, corset, stockings and bra.

"I'll be gentle baby. We'll take our time, with lots of lubricant. I want to fuck you this way. I've wanted to for a long time. Take your girdle off and get on your hands and knees on the bed," she said while rubbing my swollen penis which was compressed underneath the girdle. Her breath was hot on my neck. I started to breathe even more rapidly and those familiar sexual butterflies danced within me.

"Stephanie," she whispered, "You need to be fucked like this; you need to understand what it's like to be penetrated, to be fucked, and to be controlled sexually. Then you'll understand. You'll feel like you're a woman when I let you come. If I let you come. Not every woman comes when they're fucked you know." Every word was uttered in a throaty whisper and I couldn't resist. I wanted to come.

I pulled my girdle off and got into the position she requested and waited as she got on her knees behind me and started manipulating the steel plug that was already inside me. Then she leaned on my corseted back and with her other hand played with my testicles and penis. "Do you want me to fuck you Stephanie? Fuck you like a woman? You want it, don't you sweetie. And I want to fuck you too."

I resigned myself and surrendered absolutely. I was just whispering over and over, "No, please no, oh please, yes, please...oh God...no..." A confusion like waves crashing on land. Please don't. But I will... The unwinnable battle raged.

Suddenly I felt empty as she easily pulled the steel plug out and placed it on a towel she had brought to the bed. Obviously she had lubricated the strap-on dildo, because it took its place at my entrance and was pushing but only slipping about, occasionally threatening to penetrate, but not quite.

"Do you want it? Show me you want it..."

With apprehension and need I pushed back and felt the penis slip into me for the first time and I gasped as the weight of her fell on my back and she grasped my breasts from behind. Then she moved one hand from my breast to my penis which was leaking like a faucet. At the same time she started to rub it, I felt her penis go deeper inside of me. I felt so helpless and needy, dependent. This time I moaned out loud and pushed back hard. I screamed as it went in to the hilt, hitting something inside me, but I didn't know what. The rest was a blur of being taken by a woman, the complicated feeling of being penetrated, having my prostate pressured and at the same time having my penis rubbed. I remember feeling a bit guilty that I was enjoying this so much and Sarah could have no feeling because it really wasn't her penis. I was wrong about the last part.

Then she gave me her commands in a deep throaty voice, the usual commands I had come to expect and obey. "Don't come Stephie. Don't come. I'll tell you when to come. I control when you come. If you come." And indeed, she did have control, because as good as her penis felt on my prostate, I couldn't quite get there. I needed her to touch me, but her mind was somewhere else and I was helpless as she plunged in and out of me, her hands at my corseted waist pulling and pushing me, gradually building up a tempo in relation to her breathing.

Then she came and I thought I would split apart as she screamed and slammed into me over and over again. But still all I heard was her squeals and moans as I was hanging out there, so close, oh so close. The pounding ended and I felt her weight on my back again, felt her hot breath on my neck, and I thought to myself, "It's over. My God, she's not going to let me come." I felt used and I wondered if I would have to masturbate after she went to sleep.

She started to whisper into my ear as her penis began to move again. "What does it feel like to be penetrated like a woman baby? I could just pull out now and leave you, couldn't I? A lot of men do that to women you know. Do you want me to do that?"

I pleaded with her. I pleaded the exact opposite of my initial fears, "No, please don't take it out. Leave it in. Oh God, please fuck me, fuck me hard, please...please Goddess..."

She teased. "Don't beg unless I tell you to. It demeans you. You'll get what I give you." And so my voice was taken from me and I had to wait for her gifts. It was such an absolute act of control and taking.

This time she was slow and I moaned and grunted, sometimes squealing in frustration at not being allowed to beg for it. The tempo built up again until I was incoherent, and so was she as she came again, still not letting me come.

This time she said, "Okay...now. Beg now! Beg for it. I give you permission to beg for it."

I gritted my teeth with humiliation, delicious, loving degradation, and pleaded again as she touched me, "Please Goddess, may I come Goddess, please..."

She plunged as deeply as she could and rubbed me vigorously until I was spurting everywhere. I cried. I actually cried, with real tears streaming out of my eyes in response to the release of my sexual frustrations. It was then that Sarah calmed me, wiped the sweat off my forehead, the tears from my cheeks, pulling me to her while she kissed my neck, whispering soothing breathless sweet nothings. We stayed this way a long time, silent while the penis stayed inside me, hard and waiting for further instructions from Sarah. We flopped to the side and she was careful to keep it inside me while we spooned, she with her arms around my corset. We both fell asleep. We stayed that way until some unknown time in the dark of night, when Sarah finally pulled her penis out and went to the washroom to clean up. I stayed where I was until she came back; I didn't want to ruin the perfection of the bliss.

"Are you awake?" she whispered. Crickets chirped outside our window, and there were slivers of bright moonlight on the floor like white chalk of a black sidewalk.

"Yes," I said.

"Good," she cooed, "You need something. Oo, you must feel empty now."

"No, I feel really good," I grunted, misunderstanding.

"A submissive girl like you needs this." She slipped the cleaned and re-lubricated steel butt plug back inside of me with surprising ease this time and said, "There. Sleep well baby."

She rolled over and went back to sleep. So did I. I felt completely fulfilled and secure in knowing that Sarah wanted me this way, obedient to her sexually, and now out of the closet, at least with one set of friends. Our direction was set...on so many levels that my head swam with the possibilities.

Over the next few weeks, there was a revolving door of friends that came to meet me as Stephanie. Some evenings didn't go so well; we kept some friends; we lost some friends, but the friends we had now were real. And there were no more secrets. The world was now truly my oyster. And Sarah's too.

My waist decreased by another inch and I had come to crave wearing corsets, like an addiction. Even though the door was open to dressing as a man whenever I wanted to, I never once did; it just didn't seem to feel right. Occasionally I would put my old male underwear on and maybe some socks, but it never felt right again. The final physical touch, other than getting breast implants, was getting my eyebrows done, defining them in a thin arcing feminine way, with unwanted hair removed by electrolysis. So now, if I dressed like a man, everyone would think I was a female dyke trying to look male, an odd turn of events, and I just didn't want that type of attention.

My mind had been completely rewired.

changes  

Sep 18, 2018 in femdom

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