It was becoming ever swampier in there. The ceiling fan was a long forgotten breeze now that I was buried beneath a hot and rutting bull. Any thought of escaping brought another punishing hand slap against my ass. I was staring into the tweed of the sofa cushion and bit into it for stability agains the raging gail behind me. Nevertheless, I cried out, in manly chest voice at first, but as I relaxed into my role, my screams moans became ever more primal and feminine. There would be more outfits to follow and more submissions and more warm tears of embarrassment and ecstasy as I choked upon his large cock and learned to accept my place in his life. I’d never been a faggot or a sissy before I met him, but I sure as shit was one now. Prancing for him in ever tighter jeans and dresses, living en femme for ever longer stretches of the day and night. Learning to carry myself, as a girl would, limp wrists and all, purse hanging from my elbow, tight restrictive bras and panties reminding me. Dinner was good, as it was not something out of a can, or a Banquet "Boil in Bag" item. I ran into Lisa on the campus of Sacramento State and we hung out. I was busy then with trying to get back into study habits and football, so I had time for little else. Lisa came to a few games and we hung out at the after game parties. I considered her, as a Pastor's daughter, first and foremost, untouchable and second, a nice person that was fun to hang out with but I was not really interested in trying to get something going as I had a goal. After about four months of "Hey, lets do a movie........let's go to the concert," Lisa finally sat me down and said something like, "So, we have been hanging out, and you have never really tried to do anything....even hold hands." We would see each other on Sunday and almost daily at campus, but it was not like we spend every waking moment together. We would just trudge merrily along and every couple or three weeks she would call me and say,.
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