"Just then he heard a bell ring, Greta glanced at the line of bellsranged along the wall indicating to which room each was connected. Itread, "Mistres...?s bedroom." Robert hesitated for a moment, it rangagain."Run along Daphne, there?s a good boy, you really don?t want to keepyour mistress waiting," Greta mocked.Addressing him by his new feminine name cut him like a knife and her useof the words, "good boy," only served to deepen his humiliation now thathe was dressed in female clothing and even. They both sat. Ron kept his feet on the carpet while Mrs. Campbell curled her legs onto the seat, facing towards him. She ran her hand over her neck, resting her elbow on the back of the sofa. Ron now tried not to stare at Mrs. Campbell's chest, but his eyes flicked to her nipples each time he looked at her. Mrs. Campbell said nothing, allowing him to look all her wanted. She felt the liquid had reached her waist and was making the tops of her leggings wet."Oh no, feel these," she said,. Shortly after, she disappeared in the direction of what I knew to be the bathroom. I waited about five minutes or so and then she reappeared with a towel tightly wrapped around her body. Her damp hair cascading down over her body revealed what I suspected, that she had just had a shower. She moved over to the dresser, opened a drawer, took out a hairdryer and plugged it into the wall socket. She turned on the dryer and started moving it up and down over her hair.I was starting to think that. Her mouth watered and so did her vagina, with a different fluid. She touched herself, feeling the dampness of her panties. Her mind drifted; she no longer thought of that sweet spot between a girl's legs as a vagina, it had become a pussy. She leaned back, rubbing harder, imagining Alan's cock inside her, plunging, plunging inside that most sacred and secret space, now thought of as her CUNT!Dawn pondered, like a debutante preparing for her first ball or a movie star for a grand opening, what.
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