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I'd lived most of my life in denial. Fantasies abounded but never quite hit the nail on the head. Blame a sheltered and conservative upbringing if you will but at the end of the day it doesn't really matter. All of the excuses in the world about being "only into strapons" and "I like being objectified but only by strong women" wouldn't hide the truth of the matter. The truth being that I'd made it into my mid-30's and still never admitted that more than sometimes I found my mind wandering towards pleasing men.
You didn't know any of this though. In fact you just knew me as another one of the guys. What you were doing to me was intended to be destructive and humiliating. An act of emotional sadism if you will. The act being that when you found out that sometimes I crossdress in private you confronted me. You made it clear you had evidence and if I didn't do as told then you'd make sure that everyone in my life knew what I did.
That's when you told me what you wanted. You were having a small event of sorts. A barbeque with 3-5 guys and I was to show up. Completely ready, my body shaved, and wearing my tightest black minidress. I was going to be your entertainment. I'd be replacing the stripper or prostitute you'd normally hire for your annual guys weekend.
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