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Most are self-employed andtake vacations when they want. Flexible hours. Lots of business write-offsfor tax purposes. Not a bad life. And all the beautiful clothing theydesigned and wore!They stared at me.Then I told them more; I was a crossdresser. I was of slim build;"delicate", a real man would say. I had naturally gravitated towardfashion design. I loved looking at the glamour magazines in the store. Ihad makeup, pantyhose, cheap necklaces, the scrunchies, the bobby pins. Ihad shoes, two dresses, skirts. I'm glad they didn't ask me where I hadgotten the stuff. They would have beaten me for having stolen from thestore.Finally, however, the truth had set me free! I felt happy and honest,invigorated, and alive! My cheer was plain on my face!My mom reacted her usual way: she slapped me and said, "You disgrace! Youbad boy! You kill mom!"My dad just stared at me and muttered bizarre words under his breath. Icouldn't understand, probably because, having been born here, I learntEnglish. I gasp and pull it quickly shut.Bradley bounds to his feet and head upstairs. I sigh in relief and sink into my chair, hop-ing that he didn't see too much.Bradley is my pride and joy. I am 30. I was 16 when I had Bradley, having gotten my-self in trouble with a black man. Bradley's skin is a very light brown, and his hair is smooth like mine. Quinn and I had married, but it didn't last.The next morning, I looked at my baby as I set his breakfast plate in front of him. It was Saturday, and as soon as Bradley left to do whatever it is 14-year-old boys do on Satur-days, I planned to work in my garden.He looked back at me with innocence. I shrugged and decided whatever had happened last night was probably long forgotten.Breakfast was shared in silence, and as soon as he was finished, he said, "Great pancakes, Mama," and was out the door.I washed the breakfast dishes and changed into a tank top and cutoffs and went to work in my garden, hair pulled back in a ponytail and barefoot.A few.
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I couldn’t see a thing, and I didn’t know who was where, when all of a sudden, I felt the flogger slap my ass and pussy.‘Oh, eh, I felt that,’ I panted, as another slap came, making me moan even louder.‘No talking or I shall gag you. Now spread your legs wide.’Then came another sensation, a constant tapping on my now visible clit. If they kept this up, I was going to pee myself, and I could feel my pussy tightening and pulsating the more they kept slapping me.‘I’m going to cum,’ I gasped.‘No, you don’t, not until we say you can,’ came Paul’s voice.‘But I can’t hold it back.’‘Yes, you can, and yes, you will. Don’t disobey us, Dee, or you will face the consequences. Do you understand?’They both stopped slapping and tapping, waiting for me to calm down. Dave’s voice came softly near my ear, ‘I am going to fuck your ass, you lustful woman.’ Getting hold of the cheeks of my ass, he spread them wide, making my juices flow out of me. ‘Oh yes, you are ready for me now.’Getting the lube, he.

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