The more I twisted, the more the fabric of my shorts rubbed on it, and the harder it became. Now, even though my little penis was small, it was still ...poking at the front of my shorts making a small tent in my shorts. I looked around and noticed the boy that had taken my underwear and a couple of his friends were looking and pointing at my little erection. They kept laughing in which the instructor caught them, and asked them what they were laughing about? I held my breath waiting for them to. Glorious, wonderful stories in which men were granted the female bodies they dreamed of. Stories in which they could wear the frilly feminine clothing they desired without fear of ridicule, and act as girly as they wanted to. And then he posted them to the Internet.Which was where Tammy's second problem came in. For Tammy had a nemesis. Mr. Critic. Oh, wicked Mr. Critic!Every time Tammy posted a new story, sure enough Mr. Critic would criticize it."Your spelling is atrocious," Mr. Critic would. I want you so baaiiiihhhh."Kitty screamed in pleasure as Mistress pinched her nipples."And what," Samantha asked, "will you do for me in order to earn that?" Anything!" Kitty said breathlessly. She wanted to feel this way forever,in Sam's embrace.Upon hearing Samantha say, "Good girl," Kitty melted once again. She feltthe weight on top of her shift along with the opening of and rummagingaround in a drawer. Her eyes sparked as Mistress Samantha brought out apretty pink collar."This," she said,. A daughter who was destined to marry a rich art collector who would take care of her so that she could produce many grandchildren. Zoë was no rich art collector, and she didn’t have the right tools for the rest of it. She clung to her dreams for me, insisting that Zoë was some kind of fad. ‘I read that all the college kids try it at least once,’ she once said dismissively- conveniently ignoring the fact that I had long graduated from college. Still, she was sure that lesbian romance and.