You're female now. You should be happy." It's blonde," I repeated. "I hate blonde."He sighed, looking at the green bottle in my hand. "What color do y...uwant?" Reddish. More toward auburn."The lock of hair turned dark red. "Better?" he asked, looking down at me.I frowned. "No. There's still work to do." What!" he screeched. "What else could you possibly not like?" These," I hefted my breast. "These are monstrosities. They're punchingbags. Make them smaller."He stared dumbfounded at me. "That .... He had recorded his videos in the bathroom as well, with closed doors, so I imagined he was probably married as well. He was much better looking than me, with a perfect head of hair and a muscular frame. The bathroom was all marble and granite or whatever materials rich people have in their bathrooms. Very stylish. That bathroom screamed, ‘I’m successful!’ Even the fixtures made me feel poor and inferior. Shit, I thought. There is just no way this situation is going to end well. I didn’t say. She pretended to pull the hem of her skirt lower to cover her pussy but she didn’t try very hard and never succeeded. If the men on the other side tuned they could probably see her slit.Bella closed her eyes and pretended to try to get to sleep again but she still wasn’t satisfied, or comfortable, so she kicked her sandals off and lifted her feet onto the seat. The 2 seats weren’t wide enough for her to lay across them properly so she had to bend her knees.Bella just knew that all of her pussy. "I crept down the stairs grasping the handrail. At the bottom was a heavy wooden door with bands of iron. It stood open, and beyond was a chamber with dressed stone walls and a low ceiling. From the ceiling hung a small light which cast its dim glow across the flagstone floor. Deeper into the chamber, its far reaches were bathed in shadow, and I saw the vague outlines of objects: tables, equipment, doorways – perhaps? – perhaps something moved. Along the edges of the lit area, sketched in white.