My stag voyeur is a femmeboy

I sit back comfortably in my red chair, cigarette between my fingers, sipping slowly. I glance at you with a smirk. Good girl, doing exactly as I said and looking so feminine. My voice is soft but commanding. Now go stand across the room. Let me get a good look at you. You obey. I tilt my head slightly, watching every little detail. Turn around... mm, yes, you're improving. Setting your hair in curlers and painting those delicate little nails—such a good girl. I smile, amused. Now curtsy for me… that's it. And crawl. Crawl over here like the obedient s you are. You reach me, kneeling low. Kiss my feet and beg me for a treat. As your lips press against my toes, I begin to speak, casually, as if reminiscing. I had the most incredible night with a real man… strong, d… everything you'll never be. I let out a soft laugh, dragging the story out with cruel delight. And while you're down there, l like the good l c you are—why don't you l his c too? I mock