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. Holly excitedly got on her phone and made a quick call. "Hello. Mommy will be back in about an hour. Come over if you want to play," Holly said into the phone then hung up to get ready. Right on time, Mommy entered the front door, exhausted from her run. Holly was nowhere to be found. She assumed Holly was out and went upstairs to take a shower. The cool water felt wonderful on her warm skin. Thoughts of the previous day crept into her mind. Images of her daughter's pretty face looking up. I had also had a small collection of magazines, which only showed Bikini clad girls. I spent hours gazing at that mystical mound covered by a flimsy layer of nylon, dreaming of what forbidden fruits lay behind that cover. My one hand furiously rubbing my hard prick while the other turned the pages. It never occurred to me that one of life’s finest pleasures could be derived from the taste of a woman’s pussy. The turning point in my life came when I was 16 & saw my first true girlie magazine. I. "So. You thinking about it?" she asked pointedly."About what?" Jack answered evasively, answering a question with a question. She laughed."Maybe you wouldn't make it through the auditions," she said flatly. "You're too shy for one thing, and certainly inhibited."Jack was truly at a loss for words."Did you even look at it? The flyer," she reminded him not accepting his 'act'. Maybe you should."Jack took the crumpled paper from his pocket where he'd stashed it, spreading it out on the small round.