Just like that

I was so nervous that I was shaking and quivering from head to toe. Red lipstick, tight miniskirt, fishnets and heels. Every piece of feminine attire seems designed to make you feel even more naked and exposed. He wrapped his muscular arms around me giving reprieve from the shivering with his firm touch. Heavy breath and gentle kisses graced the back of my neck. Determined hands braced me around my waist. I sensed a growing hardness and warmth against my backside. He had fucked me into submission the night before me and then shaved my from head to toe as I lay in state of total relaxation, exhaustion and ecstasy. When he left for the evening, I found a new outfit for me to try on and a note saying he’d be back tomorrow evening at six. The shaking and quivering started back again. He tried to soothe me by rubbing my shoulders, but I could feel my pendant clip-on earrings bobbing about like chandeliers in an earthquake. When lifted his hands, I fell forward against the couch. He went to work slowly and methodically, lifting my skirt up and sliding my panties down - just enough to expose the important parts. I heard his fly unzip behind be and then a gentle and determined pressure against my anus. A brief intermission for lube, and then another and slowly the walls of my manhood began to give way. The damn had been breached and I was skewered there on the sofa. They don’t call it a compromising position for nothing. There’s really no way to fight back. My arms were as useless as those of dinosaur. If I tried to stand up, he could simple push me forward with one hand and I’d lose my balance against the arm of the sofa. The high heels made sure of the that and when I did fall forward, his phallus dug in even deeper. It was becoming ever swampier in there. The ceiling fan was a long forgotten breeze now that I was buried beneath a hot and rutting bull. Any thought of escaping brought another punishing hand slap against my ass. I was staring into the tweed of the sofa cushion and bit into it for stability agains the raging gail behind me. Nevertheless, I cried out, in manly chest voice at first, but as I relaxed into my role, my screams moans became ever more primal and feminine. There would be more outfits to follow and more submissions and more warm tears of embarrassment and ecstasy as I choked upon his large cock and learned to accept my place in his life. I’d never been a ****** or a sissy before I met him, but I sure as shit was one now. Prancing for him in ever tighter jeans and dresses, living en femme for ever longer stretches of the day and night. Learning to carry myself, as a girl would, limp wrists and all, purse hanging from my elbow, tight restrictive bras and panties reminding me of my new found sexuality. Hours at the bahroom vanity in sort of zen like state. applying making, grooming and shaving ever smoother, painting my fingernails and toenails in bright pastels and neons. Over time, I began to wear more elegant and lady like dresses and gowns and he began to fuck me like a woman. I’d lay missioinary style with my legs in the airs, at the center of his king sized bed he would drive it into me. My old blue jeans, button down shirts and tennis shoes gathered dust in my closet. My own hard cock and masculine desires were long forgotten. And then just like that, he was gone and I stared at the breast form and wigs as an archaeologist would vestiges of a lost city in a forgotten time.