Arab Man and a Straight Sharmota

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I'm headed to Manhattan.
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Last Friday, I was listening to my radio as I knitted something white and sexy for me to wear. The pop music on that station appealed to me very much. A news break interrupted the flow of songs. The DJ talked about the career of a former One Direction band member after the band broke up. I was a bit disappointed to learn that those singers were no longer together. An advertisement for a shoe and handbag store followed. I turned off the radio right away. How did I get to the point where I like music on a station that advertises shoes and handbags?

Michael came into the room wearing only a towel. His hair was still wet from his shower. I was sitting in a chair, wearing my usual Friday outfit, a lacy bra and panty. Getting me to wear panties after our wedding was easy for Michael. I could tell myself that they were practically briefs. They fit well, because of my underwhelming size. Actually, they fit better than briefs. Briefs had always sagged a bit in front when I had worn them, if you catch my drift.

Getting me to wear bras took a week of convincing. Every morning in our first week of marriage, he told me to put on a bra. I refused, and he grabbed my balls ... hard. By that Friday, he didn't even have to tell me what he wanted. I put on the bra on my own. Bras were a regular part of my daily dressing from then on, even though I always wore men's clothes over them.

Michael notices the worried look on my face. "What's wrong habibi?" he asked. When I told him what just happened he laughed. Pointing to my knitting he said, "Maybe you were listening to the right station after all."

Moving behind me, my stud cupped my chin so that I was looking up at him. This was my signal to open my mouth. I obeyed. He released a drop of spit into my ready mouth. I swallowed it greedily. I always love taking any of his fluids into my body. Any part of my Arab master can enter me at will.

I felt loving warmth as Michaels fingers played with my tits. "Maybe you should start wearing high heal shoes and using handbags," he said. "Columbia University sent out an email. They are looking for an English professor to teach about Victoria women authors. You know they only want a woman in that position."

My tiny White dick was hard from his efforts on my breasts, but his words concerned me. "I don't want to be a woman. I like my dick and balls."

"You clit is only a bit larger than the average woman's," Michael pointed out. "As for your balls, if you like them so much, why do you refuse to wear a bra sometimes?"

He had me there. I did object to wearing a bra on occasion, not because I wanted to disobey him or hold on to any shred of masculinity, but because I wanted the ball grabbing that resulted from my refusal. It felt comforting every time he demonstrated his dominance by squeezing my balls. It made me feel possessed by him each time he had his rough way with my most fragile organs.

Michael removed my panties and knelt behind me. His left arm wrapped around me to pin me to the back of the chair. His right palm pressed against the front of my clit. Keeping his palm pressed there, he slapped my balls hard. "Tell me to stop when you want me to stop," he said. Then he went on slapping. Ten slaps later, I was still silent. Twenty slaps later, my legs were spread wide to give him better access. Fifty slaps later, Michael stopped on his own accord. "Don't worry. You can keep your weak stones. I like to be able to do that to you every so often. In there future, just ask me to play with your balls when you want a good slapping. There is no need for you to every disobey me." Michael's hand moved to my clit. His pinched it hard on the nerve running down the front. "You can keep your clit too. I'm always gentle with my other wives' clits. I like the idea of having access to one clit that I can treat roughly."

I ran my fingers through my Arab husband's hair. "I love you," I whispered.

"I know," he said. "You will not wear any men's clothes from now one. You will also grow your hair long. The other wives will teach you how to pass for a woman. Apply for that job today as a woman. By the time you go for your interview, you will look the part. Tonight, I'm inviting my friends over to look through your clothes and take whatever fits them. You will be present as I give them all your male attire. You will be naked save for a ball clamp for that gathering. This is my command."

"Yes, Seedi," I responded.

Soon enough, it was evening. I was waiting in my bedroom with nothing on save my ball clamp. My mobile phone rang. It was one of my regular customers. "You are in for a treat tonight," he said.

"Michael invited you?" I asked.

"Baby, Michael invited everyone," he said. "Your master didn't even bother making individual phone calls. I learned about tonight, because I saw his Craigslist post. It was in Arabic and gave the time and address for your giveaway. Prepare to be sore, because any number of strangers might show up."

When the lads arrived, they had a comradery that forms whenever a band of fellows gather. They laughed when they saw my exposed state. One guy tugged on the ball clamp just to see me wince. Maybe wincing was a mistake. The others liked seeing my reaction. They rushed in to cause it again and again with their own tugs. Then they started rummaging through my clothes as I stood by passively.

They changed into my outfits to try them on for size. That gave my glimpses of their bodies. To say that these Arab men were models of physical perfect is redundant. They noticed my arousal. It amused them. More laughter erupted. Needless to say, my clothes weren't the only things they took as a group. My holes were worn out from their pounding.

I woke up the next morning covered in Arab jizz inside and out. It was the first day of my life as a woman. Much to my surprise, that new life wasn't noticeably different from my life as a gay bitch. I start teaching a Columbia in the fall. I move to NYC in June. If any Arab men in that area want to use me, just drop me a line. Michael says I have to accept all sincere inquires.

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johnnyreyjohnnyreyabout 7 years ago
So sexy

Wow Sir.

I would love to be dominated this way. I deserve to be. I should lose all masculinity as I'm such a poor excuse of a boy. I only have a tiny dick and am a submissive little white boy.

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