How… how is this even possible? She’s done just as she promised, but there is
now way in the world that I could have believed her. She’s made every bit of my dreams come true…
and all the nightmares that come with them!
I’m the exact physical incarnation of every feminine fantasy I’ve ever
had. I’m thin and lithe with curves that
just don’t stop. I’m topped by thick
luxurious blonde hair. My skin is baby
smooth and oh so sensitive. My voice is
soft like an angel’s and when the desire overwhelms me it brings about the most
sensuous moan I’ve ever heard.
I can’t help but stop whenever I see a mirror. My lust swells as I see myself and it takes a
moment to realize that I’m lusting after my own body. But she did more than this physical transformation…
she looked beyond the light and beautiful side of my fantasy. She’s drawn from the depths of my depravity. I have… oh God.. I have these desires. These needs.
My skin MUST be touched. If it’s
not caressed and fondled I grow restless.
And if there’s no one to touch me?
Then I need to do it myself. My
own touches barely gratify that desire though… when she touches me it’s like a
choir singing. And when her men touch me…
it’s physical perfection!
But mentally I have the opposite needs. I want to look at my body, not bow down to my
base needs and touch myself. And I grow
red and hot every time a man sees me, let alone touches me. And no man can stop with a mere touch. His desire is doubled by my own and I find
myself sating his needs. And all the
while we physically merge into one lusty being, I’m crying out in equal parts ecstasy
and humiliation.
I know she can change me.
She can nudge me to love these feelings… I just need to please her
more. I need to prove that I’m
worthy. That I’m her plaything in every
way imaginable. Once I do that she’ll
finish my transformation. She’ll wash
away all those shameful thoughts and let me bask in my full submissive
form.
source: Simone's Tumbler
Mmm... yes.
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