In the two months after I got my transition clitoris, Mustapha played hisrole as my master with great conviction, but also with a lot of tendernessand...affection. His power was not to be questioned. I had to submit, serveand obey. As a woman, I had felt a strong drive and obligation tosurrender to this force. Mustapha was the one and only focus of myattention. He was the centre of my life as a woman. Every morning, I wouldwake up first, go to the kitchen, fix breakfast and then wait for him. I didn’t shower, I put on a sheer white extra small Bikini that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. You could clearly see my areolas and hard nipples through the top. The bottoms? Forget it.g string bottom that BARELY covered my slutty slit. It kept shifting so my pussy lips were sometimes out. I took off all my makeup and false eyelashes because I didn’t want to look older than I was. I wanted to be myself. I threw on 6 inch clear stripper heels and a trench coat and made my way to the. More

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