She keeps a watchful eye on me. Every time I act out of line, make a non-feminine action, or lock myself up, she sends a pulse. What is a pulse? A warm vibrant energy that gradually builds within my new dainty frame until it explodes into a crescendo of orgasmic delight. My entire body vibrates within itself as my mind is wracked back and forth by the female pleasure. Every time I clutch my sides and moan out in the most sultry voice; automatically. The feeling of my vagina’s walls spasming; the wetness that dampens my thighs; the sweet scent of my feminine nectar. The complete overflow of female hormones caused by sudden bliss enthralls my mind and body into a state of pure carnal pleasure after the pulse. I am forced to seek the nearest method for a second release- whether that be my hand, a toy, or a man. Then I simply melt into my body’s lust and sit there in a wave of femininity.
Ever since I betrayed her. Ever since I pushed her away. Ever since she punished my with a this female body of the most sensitive kind. With every pulse I feel my male self being stripped away from me as I radiate orgasmic energy. With ever pulse I feel my bosom push out, my hips widen, my bottom expand, my vagina- more sensitive. And with that the female disposition cements itself deeper into my mind.
Eventually the rush of pleasure and tsunami of femininity will overcome my whittled down male psyche and I will settle into my new feminine role- and embrace it to the fullest.
At this point, I’m becoming impatient.