“Exquisite,” I breathed as I took her in. I turned to the sale master. “And she used to be a man?”
He nodded. “Yes. Thomas Hanson, convicted of murdering his wife, sentenced to magical sexual slavery. Plead innocent, of course.” The slave master’s voice was matter of fact. “No name now, just call her slut.”
It was one of those stupid “Will you press the button?” deals. You know what I’m talking about. In this case it was “You will meet your favorite celebrity” but “You have to marry them and have a child together.”
Aaargh. I can’t believe this stupid wish bank genie.
Each day, the first time she pounds me she asks if I’ve learned my lesson. And I always say no.
It all started when when Sally and I suddenly switched genders for no apparent reason. I wasn’t exactly happy with that, but I adjusted. It didn’t hurt that Sally turned out H-O-T hot, I mean damn, look at her. She’s the one I’m blowing here, just take a moment and appreciate that face and body. I would have gone gay for her when I was a guy, I didn’t last two minutes as a girl before I was spreading my legs.
Beth was tired of being the bitch. Tired of waiting on Adam hand and foot, of serving his sexual needs whenever he demanded them. She didn’t want to serve as his blowjob alarm clock. Or have to dress up as a french maid, cleaning the house until he decided to take her roughly wherever she was, usually with no foreplay. Sure, the sex was hot, but the rest of the time she just felt demeaned and used.