The Perfect Penis

 
Panties was accompanying Miss D, getting used to walking with her as her assistant and accessory, when the conversation turned to m*n and m*n’s bodies. Panties’ ears were burning as she listened to an extended, detailed review of various of Miss D’s lovers, some crooked, some with an ugly wattle of skin under, but also one perfectly beautiful penis she remembered the way you might a song, or a rainbow. She matter-of-factly spoke of his/its perfection, how when he/it was in her he/it was so perfect and pleasurable. She smiled and wondered if she had ever seen it other than in a state of attention? (It is impossible to imagine any straight real m*n not being ever otherwise when in the presence of Miss D, even fully when she is clothed.) What bothered Panties most was that her own panties became wet listening to the story of the perfect penis. Miss D was very entertained to hear this and speculated that Panties would get wet for things like that, and for a few other “private” matters (see shadow blog) that Panties was already being trained to accept. Miss D had already declared explicitly how Panties was transitioning to someone who already prefer a lady’s panties to her body. In a small fit of defiance, Panties put up several Playboy images on her walls. Later she whined to Miss D about having what arouses her imposed so brutally. There was a pause on the phone and Miss D said something that sounded like, “There are lots of things that I don’t want to do that I have to do....” followed by a sound that’s not exactly a laugh, but a pleasant sound she makes when she’s amused.