Forced fem stories are kind of like parables.
I was about to make him my forced fem bitch. I chuckled as he struggled to pull off his too-tight shirt to reveal his ugly beer gut. And I REALLY started cackling when he was completely naked, his tiny dick invisible beneath that big hairy belly.
(for the first part of this story, click here)
Why did I have to make him submit? Because he was rude, a man and expecting something from me . . . and guess what? I don’t suck dick for free.
Luckily, I’d left my ugliest clothes I didn’t really care about to pack last. Think paisley bridesmaid dresses. Think Teva sandals. And Think gaudy jewelry and old, chalky makeup fit only for a fag hag.
I beckoned towards the remnants of my closet before snarling:
“Get dressed, bitch.”
He whimpered as he pulled on a hideous floral print sundress I hadn’t worn in years. I couldn’t help but laugh as he tried to get it to zip around his fat, sausage-like little body. Eventually, though, I’d had enough of seeing him struggle to pull up the zip.
“It’s not going to zip, idiot. Time to help me get my deposit back.”
“What do you mean?” he half stammered, half whimpered.
“Time to clean the fucking TOILET!”
I handed him the brush with an evil smirk. My grin widened as I watched his fat ass bounce back and forth as he started to go to work on the toilet.
After he’d finished, I grabbed the brush from his hands and told him to turn back around.
“I think you deserve a nice hard spanking for your attitude, don’t you?”
The pain of being spanked with the toilet brush must have shocked him, because he let out a ridiculous yelp. I snapped a picture of his bare, bruised ass kneeling next to the toilet too, of course. Can you blame me?
