This was making me hard as I remembered that afternoon up at the lake. She wouldn't let me go all the way but did let me finger her cunt, wet and war... to my fingers.The blob shifted under my hands into a fair approximation of a woman's crotch. I slid my hand down to the cleft between the suggestion of legs, feeling the folds of Becky's cunt lips and the opening of her cunt, feeling exactly as remembered, wet and warm. The replica boobs had faded away as material flowed to form the replica. She looked up at him, and Phil could see the trust and contentment in her eyes.That she was enjoying her own degradation was something Phil could not comprehend, could not fathom. But the asymmetry drove him wild. This was not an exchange of equals. He was master and she was slave. He was to be served, she was to serve. The patriarchy of it thrilled him. The rules were gone, shredded to ribbons.He took the leash and walked his dog, taking her all the way around the room. "I can't believe you'd. More

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