She came back smoking, looking at me with a nasty smile. I couldn’t focus on her and in my vision she kept shrinking and rotating. “Well, It may b... fun in fact. You have quite the tools a woman needs. We won’t have the chance after this morning when they…” But she did not complete her sentence. She approached close, leaving her cigar to an ash pit over the night stand. She landed her hand on my scarred chest, carefully inspecting the scars but also caressing me. I couldn’t ignore the brightness. All I had to do was grab the “scepter” and the male would get weak and I would be powerful.My mother then made you face away from her, bend over, and grab your ankles. We were then faced with your tight red ball sac sticking straight out from the back of your body below your puckered rectum (thanks to the band tied around your scrotum) and your hard and shiny (and now purple) prick sticking straight down. How I ever thought that males were superior I’ll never know. This was going to be fun.Mom. More

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