***
Five minutes before 7 p.m. I give Douglas the command to stiffen. His priapic state will juxtapose nicely with his presentment. Hair now fully grown to the shoulders, I have it most effeminately coifed. Make up, the works, mascara, rouge, lipstick, plucked and slicked eyebrows, offers prettiness. Most feminine in appearance, the eight plus inches of hard but well subjugated phallus will stun.
Sipping wine, now my turn to assume a look of Schadenfreude, the doorbell rings at one minute after seven. I snap my fingers and a prancing Douglas knows to respond, raging hard on seeming to waggle in cadence with his many bells.
I hear the door open and shut then the clothing box and Roger steps into the living room to offer the audience I have demanded, nude and shaven.
“Douglas, some wine
