‘I would proceed even further, and say that a woman is a castrated prepubescent boy who was socially conditioned to grow his hair long. Woman’s in...eriority is expressed through her clothing, i.e. dresses, skirts, makeup, nails, Roman slave branders – piercings, heels — ad infinitum. Her behavioral patterns, such as: cowardice, lack of perseverance and focus on appearance. She continuously rebels against this unpleasant condition but whatever she does — she knows the truth. For example, dresses. I grabbed my smartphone and headed through the bathroom to my sister's room.I knocked on the door then slid it open, sticking my head in. "Are you busy?" I asked.Sharon was in her pajamas, sitting at her desk, doing homework. I can't believe she still wore pajamas. She looked at me with slight disgust, "What do you want?" For her, she was being polite."I have something I want to show you." I flung open the door, exposing my new equipment to her.Her mouth flopped open. "Is that really?..." she. She wasn’t looking back at me, solely concentrating on circling my nipple with her finger. Then her hand went lower, to the hem of my top. She pulled it over my head, leaving me sitting there in just my panties. And before I could say or do anything, she was on all fours in front of me, suckling my nipple. My breathing was ragged as I let out a soft moan every now and then. I caressed her head, my hands reaching for her breasts and squeezing them softly. Which resulted in a soft moan on her. ” “I like it,” I said, looking at a statue of a woman being double-penetrated, “it’s very…you.” “You can add you own touch to the place,” Lucy yelled, “if you were so inclined to. Come have a seat, see how you like it.” “I know you’re the queen of hell,” I smiled and turned to the demonic monarch, “but I didn’t think you’d have an actual palace.” Lucy was in a black gown that was unusually conservative for her. Her cleavage still showed in all its red glory, but beneath that, everything was.