“I-I’m sorry,” he apologized contritely, “I didn’t mean what I said.”“Ethan, that little tantrum just earned you a trip over my knee and...an early bedtime,” she told him firmly as she led him over to an armless chair in the kitchen.The effeminate sissy whimpered and whined, pleading with her in a desperate, but futile attempt to dissuade her.“Please–I really didn’t mean what I said,” he blabbered, “I think it’s good that Mommy has a man that can satisfy her.”At this point, he was willing to say. She nodded to me approvingly and instructed me to slide it into her. I was overwhelmed with the urge to ram it into her forcefully. To try to hurt her, the way she did me. I even looked at her asshole thinking I might be able to shove it into her ass. I must have been contemplating that thought too long because I didn’t notice when Stacy leaned forward. She reached down and grabbed my balls, crushing them in a vice-like grip. My knees buckled as I dropped the dildo to the floor. Stacy leaned in. “Have a seat Miss Hood, my name is Bart Wolfe, it is a pleasure to meet you.”He stood and extended his hand and they shook before she took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. He sat down and planted his elbows on his desk. His fingers intertwined in front of his face as he watched her. She sat, she crossed her legs like a lady and placed her hands in her lap. “Indeed a pleasure, Mr. Wolfe. You may call me Lita.”He smiled as he sat back in his chair. “Lita it is then. Please, Lita. .. with this..." He gestured to his body, his hourglass figure covered up with some kind of tasteful colorful attire that clung to his skin for dear life. The headband didn't help. "It would hurt your reputation or something." What is this, the 1980s?" I asked him rhetorically. "If people can't accept you, that's their own problem. So what if you flaunt it? That's a part of who you are." Part of my big speech was fueled by Molly's backlash against what I said on Friday, but I wasn't going to.
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