“You’re mine.” He says to me, gripping my newly formed breasts that he himself molded from my formerly masculine flesh.
I can feel something budding in my nethers. Soft virgin folds appeared and replaced that which once proved that I was a man. No more evidence.
He grabs my ass with calculated and fierce lustful force and turns me around to face him. His mouth meets mine and I am powerless to fight back. We are locked together in this dance, and he lifts my leg onto the table for a better approach.
As I feel his manhood thrust into my wanting pussy, I know that I am now complete. My moans of ecstasy give no room for alternative explanation.
“Mine.” He says again through grunts and gritted teeth. This makes sense to me. I am his, now. His woman, his pleasure. And he is also mine.
