In the two months after I got my transition clitoris, Mustapha played hisrole as my master with great conviction, but also with a lot of tendernessand...affection. His power was not to be questioned. I had to submit, serveand obey. As a woman, I had felt a strong drive and obligation tosurrender to this force. Mustapha was the one and only focus of myattention. He was the centre of my life as a woman. Every morning, I wouldwake up first, go to the kitchen, fix breakfast and then wait for him. Figuring it was too good of an opportunity to pass up, I pushed aside her hand, and forcefully kissed her pussy lips. Her hands quickly found the back of my head, but I broke away before she could get the release she craved. I need you to keep your hands away from down here while I clean it. My downturned head hid my mischievous smile. She had made me wait for my orgasms earlier, now I was returning the favour. She practically shook with impatience as I worked the soap into my hands, and then. More

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