Size A A A

Cross dressed slavery

They all laughed. The black woman stepped forward and took my leash. Her voice was deep and gravely. Don’t worry s****r, she said, we will take good care of you. Her glowing mohair covered breasts pressed against mine for an instant, and she smiled. Her lips were large and soft looking, a gentle shade of brown, but she exuded cruelty, control, domination.

Money changed hands. The Japanese exited, followed by the black woman leading me like a dog. Or a slave. I tried to scream, I tried to say something, but the gag silenced me. I tried to pull away, but the large black woman whispered what punishments awaited me if I resisted. So I surrendered, and the taste of submission, actually some chemical dripping from the gag in my mouth, was surprisingly sweet.

I would never see Leena again, but I would feel her presence around me, as I was f***ed in and out of her sweaters, her knit creations, for my new owners. Like a Barbie doll, I came with those outfits. And like a model, I loved trying them on…