Femme Natale
Chapter 1

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Hypnosis, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Petting, Sex Toys, Big Breasts,

Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Men and women learn to adapt in a not-so-distant future, where women make up the majority, and the Feminist Party is slowly taking control of the government.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell ‘em off”

“Because” Janine tried to explain, “It doesn’t work like that”-

“Why not?” Mark replied. The look of perplexity on his face was more than just ignorance- it was judgement.

Janine had to calm herself and not give in to the flashes of anger that spawned inside- “I just mean, saying what I feel will get me fired. It’s not like I can get away with criticizing other people, I’m not...” Janine stopped herself short.

“A man?” Mark finished. His tone was incredulous- like he doesn’t already know the double standard, Janine thought.

Janine held her tongue, realizing they were going into dangerous territory.

But Mark was all too eager to continue- “That’s what you were going to say, right?” he pressed.

Not now, Mark. “It doesn’t matter” Janine replied, sounding defeated. She stormed away, ending the conversation.

“Because a guy can say whatever he wants and a woman can’t, right?” came the voice behind her.

Janine shook her head in anger- just drop it, you ignorant dumbass

“You sound just like one of those ‘Feminazis’, telling people that everything to women is unfair. That men are terrible, th-that men are just chauvinistic pigs” he stuttered. He waved his arms in circles for emphasis.

“You’re such an ass” Janine said, glancing his way before raising her hand to gesticulate that she was done with him. She shook her head again and walked away.

“Oh, I’m sorry” Mark replied sarcastically, “Did I hurt your feelings with the truth?” Mark watched her walk down the hallway into their room, and felt a twinge of remorse over what he said.

Mark just stared down the hallway, as if waiting for some sign- go in and apologize? Just let it go? Did she really deserve it?

In that instant, waiting for some inspiration to tell him what to do, he remembered an advertisement on the television which always riled him up-

Did you know that girls have a higher IQ than boys, and have superior multi-tasking skills? A young, attractive and overly-energetic teenage girl told the audience. But schools don’t encourage girls to pursue a career in science or business! The ad then showed a depressed-looking preteen sitting at a school desk, doodling on a piece of paper. Out of the side of the screen, a test is put back in front of the student, with a big letter “D” circled on top. Then a couple boys in the row next to her see it, and start to laugh-

But it doesn’t have to be like this, The spokeswoman voiceover continues. The depressed-looking teenager is seen walking the hallway alone, but meets with the attractive teenager, who puts her hand on the younger girl’s shoulder and leads her into a classroom. The classroom is brightly lit, with young, smiling girls of all ethnicities all sitting and facing the young girl. Some of them can be seen vigorously waving hello.

The camera looks back to the two girls walking in- Let our organization specially tutor your aspiring young student, to become the strong, independent woman she was meant to be!

The name of the organization, Women for a Better Tomorrow, was displayed on the bottom of the screen.

For Mark, it was not the idea that girls should pursue science, math, and other historically-male dominated careers that set him off; it was the smugness with which the spokesperson excitedly and derisively belittled the male sex. Not only was it smarmy and simplistic, but it was affecting the way girls perceived boys now. It had even made his own daughter call him stupid.

In the blink of an eye, Mark momentarily lost all compassion for his wife, and turned angrily away. He concluded that he was right, and that Janine was just avoiding her own prejudices.

Mark went to sit down in the living room, where the refurbished flat screen was waiting for him. As he turned the tv on with the remote, he felt a small sense of pride- after all, he was the only one on his block to have figured out a way to bring in movie channels over the air waves. He turned on the news, as he was accustomed to do.

Has President Sanderson gone too far with this latest move? Here to discuss this morning’s newest bill is our own chief political advisor, Ben Broussard, and Stacie McHenry, lead editor of Our World Times...

Ben, we’ll start with you, said the mediator. What is your reaction to what people are calling the ‘Man-hating bill’?

The other man on the screen, a bald man in his 30’s, replied immediately-

This is absolutely disgraceful, Bill. The president has gone too far with her ultra-feminist, man-hating agenda. Ben was shaking his head furiously as he was speaking.

The mediator continued- is there anything in this bill that you agree with?

Absolutely not, Bill. I’ve been covering The White House ever since the end of the war, and this is the most egregious piece of legislation I have ever seen, except for the Emergency Powers Act, which brought us into this predicament in the first-

If I may offer my opinion, Stacie interrupted, I think my colleague here is making mountains out of mole hills with this legislation, okay ... Dr. President Sanderson has finally brought the necessary protection that ALL women in this country deserve-

Oh, come on, Stacie!

No, it’s true Ben- statistics show that before the war, women were FIVE TIMES more likely to be raped than men, and men committed the overwhelming majority of rape crimes in the U.S. at that time.

Ben, your response? The moderator inserted, prodding the flabbergasted political advisor

Well, yeah ... but what about all of the false accusations of rape that women perpetrate? Huh? Where is your sense of justice for those innocent people WHO WERE JAILED for no reason?

Ben, Stacie continued, the numbers don’t lie- In 1997, the Department of Justice found that only 8% of rape accounts were unfounded

You mean the women LIED, Stacie. Tell it like it is.

I am Ben, if you would let me finish- Only 8% of rape accounts were determined to be unfounded, and if you consider that over 85% of police officers back then were male, then the true number has to be drastically lower than that.

So now you’re saying that men can’t cops?! Ben screamed at the screen

I never said that, Ben- don’t put words in my mouth

“Yes you are, you bitch” Mark snarled at the tv. Mark couldn’t believe how stupid people in this country had gotten-

“Can’t they fucking see what’s happening?” Mark asked rhetorically. His impotent rage kept him glued into the news channel, soaking in the country’s damning news.

After a while, Mark got up from the living room couch, and walked into the kitchen, still fuming over the direction the country was heading-

“Fucking cunt president, someone outta slit her throat” he grumbled, making himself a sandwich.

Ever since Marilyn Sanderson had taken office 3 months ago as the country’s first female president, it seemed that the feminists were getting their way- first with the Equal Pay for Equal Work Act, then the minimum sentencing for male perpetrators of sexual harassment under the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and now today’s amendment to the 1995 Violence Against Women Act, which prevented men from accusing women of false rape charges, punishable by jail time.

It was all a part of the Feminazi movement, which sought to undermine the rights of men in the country by acting like they were protecting women. They say they want equality, Mark thought, but they want domination. Those lesbian bitches won’t stop until every man is locked up.

Mark brought his sandwich back to the couch, and continued watching the end of America as he knew it...

Janine went to work the next day, trying desperately to keep everything inside-

Be strong, Janine. Just leave home at home. You have enough to worry about at work.

And it was true- Janine was the Chief Financial Officer for a small lawyer firm in New Philadelphia, located a comfortable 50 miles west of Old Philadelphia. Her firm represented all sorts of clients- accidents, insurance claims, personal injury suits- you name it, they did it.

But that was normal for lawyer firms in this day in age- ever since the start of the war, very few people went to study law, and almost 20 years later, demand was still much higher than supply.

Which also meant that lawyers were extremely busy-

“Janine, did you get the year-end financial update from our sister branch?” a tall, elegant blonde asked Janine.

“Uhhh, yes, I think so” Janine responded, unsure of herself. The other woman just looked at her-

“Janine, we need to have our fourth quarter financial report ready by next Friday” she stated in a slightly incredulous tone, implying that the deadline was deadly-important.

“Yes, of course Ms. Bolton” Janine quickly responded. She kept her boss’s eye contact for as long as she could muster, and after an eternity, Ms. Bolton finally walked away, her heels clicking loudly on the tile.

Phew. Get yourself together, Janine told herself.

Making her way to her office, Janine thought about Wendy Bolton, the CEO of Bolton & Daughters-

She’s so beautiful, and strong ... I wish I could be like her.

Of course, Janine would’ve needed several cosmetic surgeries to look like Ms. Bolton, and that was something she told herself never to do. I mean, what kind of CFO would I be if I wasted money on a boob job? She thought.

Maybe I could dye my hair a platinum blonde, like hers, she thought, looking at a mirror.

Janine was still very young at 32 years old, with straight brown hair that reached down to her neck, and soft features that belied an inner fierceness inside her. Having been raised well by her parents, she learned to work hard and keep her head down, staying humble no matter what.

So when President Huxson asked the women of the country to do their duty and produce sons to help fight the war, Janine married her best friend, Mark D’Accurzio, 11 years ago. Only 9 months later, Janine and Mark had a little girl named Emma, and Mark was enlisted to fight in the Filipino Front.

Janine pushed away the memories of those lonely nights, when she sometimes cried at the idea of losing Mark and having to raise Emma by herself.

Fortunately for her, Mark came back in one piece, and they were able to raise Emma as a family. Although it wasn’t true love, Mark and Janine made things work, and she grew fond of him over the years.

Janine sighed heavily, thinking of the fight they had the night before- he always takes things too personally, like I’m the one that is attacking him. Why can’t he see that I love him? That I need him to be there for me?

Janine tilted her head back and blinked her eyes, trying to stem the water works from ruining the minimal makeup she had on.

He’s changed, she realized for the hundredth time. He’s so angry all the time, and I don’t know what to do.

“Are you okay?” came a concerned feminine voice.

Janine sniffed and turned her back to the person, “Yeah, I’m okay” she said, trying to keep her voice from quivering.

But instead of hearing the person make an exit, the door closed. “Janine, you can tell me what’s going on.”

Damnit Betty, not now.

“It’s just, marriage stuff” Janine said while turning around, putting on a fake smile.

“I’m sorry to hear” Betty replied. She was only in her mid-20’s and still single- what did she know?

“Thank you Betty. I’ll be fine”, Janine said. She knew that Betty was a member of Women for a Better Tomorrow; that information would’ve set Mark right off.

Who cares what Mark thinks?, Janine thought, He’s so wrapped up in his own fantasy world. Betty can do what she wants.

After a momentary silence, Betty continued, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Janine let out a great sigh. “It’s just Mark gets so ... angry about our President” Janine replied, shaking her head.

Betty nodded her head in understanding, “A lot of men don’t see what she’s accomplishing, bringing women to the same status as men in this country. I can understand they don’t like to give up their male privilege.”

Male privilege? The idea that men had it so much easier in this country just didn’t make sense to Janine. Her down-to-earth upbringing had taught her never to play the victim, and that’s just what people who used the term ‘male privilege’ were- playing the victim.

“I know you don’t agree with our values, Janine, but trust me that men have advantages that we don’t, even in this new generation.”

Ever since the end of the war 6 years ago, the demographics of the country were significantly altered- now women made up 58% of the population, instead of the pre-war historical 51%.

What this meant was more opportunities for women, in every field. Women were now almost as likely to work in business than men, for example, which would have been unheard of 30 years ago.

And the shift in demographics made electing female politicians much more commonplace- so much so, in fact, that currently 39 U.S. Senators were women.

Betty saw the doubt on Janine’s face- “You really should come to a meeting with me sometime, Janine. You’d like it.”

“Thanks, Betty” Janine replied politely, with a thin-lipped smile and a nod. Betty took her cue, and exited Janine’s office.

I have always been curious what those feminists were saying, Janine thought as she sat down in her office chair.

If Mark knew I was thinking about going... , Janine thought, imagining the terrible temper tantrum that would erupt in their house.

After another stressful day of work, Janine rode the bus home, like most people did. The price of gas had jumped to $5.67 per gallon recently, and with the traffic still congested for their 210,000 inhabitant city, it just felt like a waste of money to use the family car.

Janine walked in the door, and didn’t have a chance to say anything before her stress levels jumped just like the price of gasoline-

“Can you believe this shit?” came her husband’s upset cry.

“Hello to you, too” Janine replied. Her tone was slightly unnerved.

Mark looked back from the couch to see his wife putting her coat away, but if he noticed her different tone of voice, he chose to ignore it.

“There’s another congressional bill being debated on the House” Mark continued, reading something off the tv screen, “Get this- women can no longer be derisively displayed in media of a primarily sexual nature.”

Janine went into the kitchen to find a bottle of wine, hoping to both avoid her stress, and alleviate it as well.

“How crazy is that?” Mark yelled from the living room. “So now porn actors have to cuddle or something?”

Janine looked up at the ceiling in exasperation before pulling the cork out of the bottle.

“Isn’t that ridiculous?” Mark asked, from the other room.

I hate when he does that. If I wanted to be in a conversation, I would be in the same bloody room!

Janine could not pour the wine fast enough- I guess he won’t apologize for the way he yelled at me last night, either. What an ass.

Mark kept talking about what he was watching on the news channel, all while Janine embraced the bitter taste of fermented grape juice in the kitchen.

“I’ll be in my room” Janine replied flatly. Mark saw Janine bring the empty wine glass and bottle with her-

“Geez, what’s eating her?” he muttered under his breath.

By the end of the work week, Janine had had enough of Mark, and needed a break. The constant barrage of news stories seemed to fuel him, which ultimately drained Janine of energy.

She knew that to argue against her husband’s angry protests was futile. All she had to do was replay Mark’s pointless sexism arguments in her head to convince herself that the more she avoided him, the better it would be for her.

Her husband eventually took notice of her apathy, and tried to provoke her into an argument-

How does that make sense? He would ask. Except that he really didn’t care what Janine thought. Or maybe he did, but he just didn’t respect her opinion.

Worse of all, the strained conversations between them made Emma uncomfortable. It wasn’t long before Emma seemed to pick up on her mother’s strategy of ignoring Mark, and she would get upset.

Baby, don’t worry about us, Janine told her one night before bedtime, Mommy and Daddy just disagree on some things. It happens to everyone.

Being the good mother she was, Janine not only tried to convince her daughter that things were going fine, but that Emma should learn a lesson of tolerance and open-mindedness from the situation. It was the kind of lesson that her parents had taught her when she was a child.

Unfortunately, Janine and Mark’s frigidness had carried over into the bedroom, as well. Although they had never had frequent sex since Emma was a few years old, they did attempt to keep the habit going at least once a month. It wasn’t a very sexually satisfying experience for Janine, but it was good for their relationship, so it was a duty very much worth doing in her mind.

But with the advent of Mark’s political obsessions, Janine was never in the mood for sex. And so it happened one Friday night, but really could have happened any night- “C’mon baby” Mark pleaded. He was under the bed sheets and propped up on his elbow, looking up at Janine with his ‘doe eyes’.

“I’m not in the mood” Janine said coolly. She was seated against the headboard, reading a magazine. She didn’t even make eye contact with him.

“We hardly even have sex anymore” he complained.

Janine felt a small rush of excitement, as the realization of her revenge was finally at hand. “I know”, she said simply. She could feel his mood turn from one of playfulness to frustration.

“You’re not being fair” he said, accusingly. His tone meant that he wasn’t playing around anymore.

“I don’t have to have sex with you anytime you want it, Mark” she answered, looking sideways at him. “It’s not a rule.”

“Yes, it is, actually” he replied, pushing himself into a cross-legged position. “It’s an unspoken rule of marriage. It’s what keeps the relationship going.”

Then we might be in trouble, came the unbidden thought. “You can’t force someone to have sex just because you’re married to them, that’s rape.”

“It’s not rape” Mark said with disgust, “I’m just trying to keep the spark alive.”

“You’re just trying to satisfy an urge” Janine replied.

“I can’t help if I want more sex, I’m a man”, Mark tried to explain. They were both in the throes of a heated argument now.

“And I can’t help it if I don’t feel like having sex” she said, emphasizing Mark’s own words.

Mark glared at her, then snatched the magazine out of her hands- “We’re doing this.”

The fuck we are- “No, we’re not!” Janine responded sternly. When she saw that he wanted to start getting physical, she stuck her finger up- “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“You’re my WIFE!” he yelled.

“I don’t CARE” she replied with similar intensity, “You can’t touch me. Keep it up, and you won’t EVER touch me.”

Mark was taken aback from her comment. Suddenly, Mark saw his wife as a hostile stranger, a person he no longer had feelings for.

Instead of striking out with words or violence, a new thought came to Mark-

“Fine” he said. No longer feeling welcomed or loved in his own house, he grabbed his coat and left.

Janine watched him leave their bedroom, still flush with anger. It was only when she heard the starting of the car in the garage that she started having second thoughts.

Hunee Bunz was one of only two gentlemen’s clubs in New Philadelphia. The other, Brickhouse, was over 30 minutes away on the other side of the city. The nice thing about Hunee Bunz, though, was that it was 24/7 and had a full liquor bar. The dancers were pretty good, too. Or so he had heard.

Mark paid the cover charge and sat down at an empty table with a full view of the stage. It was loud inside, with speakers blaring some pop music he had heard before on the radio. He was just getting comfortable when a voice startled him-

“What’s yer poison?” came a high-pitched feminine voice. Mark looked up and to his left, and standing over him was a pair of tits.

Quickly lifting his gaze up to the girl’s face, he felt embarrassed-

“Uh, White Russian” Mark replied. He stared at her for a moment, taking in her features-

She had a lot of makeup on, including black mascara, a shimmering silver eye shadow, a white foundation that made her skin flawless, and ruby-red lipstick. Her dark brown hair was straight, and cut short to shoulder length.

“You got it, sweetie” she said with a smile. She turned around, and Mark stared at her tight ass for a moment before feeling the guilt again.

“Man” he muttered. The image of her tits in that push up bra came back to him, and he sheepishly looked around, as if talking to the waitress was the wrong thing to do. He was starting to have second thoughts...

There were two connected stages, each jutting out in the sea of tables and chairs. The vast majority of tables were taken by men, and more than a few women.

Huh, didn’t expect that. Once he actually thought about it, at least a third of the crowd was female.

“Here ya go, sweetie”, came the same, innocent-sounding voice. He saw the white russian on the table, then looked at the waitress again.

“Uh, how much?” he asked.

“Wanna start a tab?” she asked, nodding down at him.

Sure, he thought, agreeing with her. Instead of saying anything, he just nodded, like an idiot.

“Credit card?” she said, after a pause.

Oh, right. Mark quickly fished out his wallet, and handed her his card.

“I’ll be back later, sweetie” she said with a wink.

Mark went to reach for his drink, it’s creamy white color reminding him of the waitress’ skin.

Damn, he thought, seeing one of the dancers in the nearby crowd. He caught her eye, and he quickly looked away.

She was a gorgeous-looking young black woman in a tight-fitting yellow bikini, with tits like melons. Her hair was braided into something that looked like black rope; all of it pulled back and falling to her mid back. Her toned body and hairstyle reminded him of some kind of African huntress.

Mark was still looking the other way when he felt a touch on his chest-

The black dancer was standing next to his chair, hand caressing him.

Mark’s mind froze, his eyes glued to the face of the young nubian who stared him down.

For what felt like an eternity, Mark and the dancer stared into each other’s eyes. But her intensity felt so ... raw and powerful.

“Um ... hi” Mark finally spoke. The woman continued to swirl her hand lazily around his body, and Mark’s heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest.

“What’s your name?” she said. Her voice was sultry and lower than he would’ve expected.


She smiled, looking pleased. “I’m Jade. Mind if I sit?”

Mark saw the open chairs in his peripheral vision, but kept his eyes on hers- “Sure” he said meekly.

Slowly swinging her muscular leg over, Jade straddled Mark’s lap, and entwined her hands on the back of his neck.

Mark felt trapped underneath her perfect form, and Jade’s overwhelming sexuality was suffocating him...

With Jade’s jutting breasts now a mere foot away, he could not help but look at them, appreciating how incredibly smooth and round they were.

Mark felt his legs quiver slightly, the stimulation more than he could handle.

“Do you like me?” she asked after a time, playing with the hair on the back of his head. He glanced over her incredibly curvaceous and powerful body.

His mind was in a fog, and it took some focus for him to answer with a simple, “yes.”

“I can tell” she teased. After a moment, Mark looked down and saw his full erection pushing against his pants. He felt more embarrassed ... and weaker, somehow.

He saw her chest coming closer to him, until he was only looking at one of her shoulders-

“We should go somewhere ... private” he heard whispered in his ear. The soft words entered his brain and made him shiver again. When she leaned back, he nodded vigorously. He wanted her more than anything in the world right now. All he wanted to do was follow her lead.

Jade gingerly stood up, pulling on Mark’s hand. He rose up after her, and followed her swaying backside to another part of the large room. The walking around gave his mind some clarity, and he noticed his drink in Jade’s other hand.

“We’re going to a private room” she told him. The music was not as loud once they passed through an archway and went down a hallway, but the bass was more noticeable.

Mark caught a glimpse here and there of bodies behind the curtains; some clothed, some not. He was still carrying a log in his pants, but it was not as erect as when Jade drew his attention to it.

Jade pulled him into a small room, little more than 7x7, and closed the door behind them. She directed him to sit on the leather plush sofa, White Russian still in her hand.

“Do you mind if I have your drink?” she asked, left hand on her hip.

“No, go right ahead” Mark said. The new environment and the personal space had brought him back to his senses.

“Mmmm” she hummed, taking a sip of the drink. She set it down on a tray that was built into the wall.

Swinging one high-heeled foot in front of the other, Jade slowly made her way toward Mark, who was trying to act casual. Straddling his lap again, Jade lightly grasped the lapels of Mark’s button down shirt.

“Tell me I’m beautiful” she suddenly said with a seriousness that surprised Mark. He felt her strong hands on his shirt, and her weight on his legs.

“You’re beautiful” Mark replied. She seemed to be searching for something in his eyes.

“Am I the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met?” she coyly asked, her expression changing to flirtation. Shifting her weight forward, she sat up. Her breasts came closer to Mark’s face, and his vision was filled with her bosom; his mind full of desire. It was so sudden, and so overwhelming at the same time.

“Yes” he admitted, after a moment. His hands were still at his sides- like his body, they were waiting to be told what to do.

“Mmmmm” she moaned, lips curled inside her mouth, “Music to my ears.” She leaned in close again- “You want my body, don’t you?” she whispered.

Mark nodded vigorously. She had the perfect body, the perfect look...

And he wanted her so bad.

“Take out your wallet” he heard her whisper. A small voice in the back of his mind protested, but he could not resist Jade’s powerful sex.

Once he did as he was told, Jade smothered his face with her chest and deftly took the wallet from him. In Mark’s mind, the wallet’s transition never happened- he was only focused on the feeling of her soft flesh enveloping him.

“Ohhhh” Jade moaned, rotating her torso in small circles. Mark’s face blissfully rested in between her mounds, following the movement. It was almost enough to make him cum.

“Mark D’Accurzio” she breathed, “7, 20, 2006, so young ... ooooh”. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, continuing to motorboat Mark’s face.

“You’re so good to me, Mark” she said in her pillow-talk voice. Pulling away from him, she dropped his wallet on the sofa, and proceeded to bring his hands over her bare ass.

Once she set his hands to work on her smooth, toned ass, she leaned back and grabbed his face with both hands-

“Tell me you love me” she commanded, before kissing him full on the mouth.

Disengaging, Jade saw the lust in his eyes, “I love you” he said. And he truly did.

Twisting around, Jade put her back on Mark’s chest, and spread his legs with her hands. Pulling his head down towards her chest, she made sure that he could see what she was about to do.

“I’ll make you cum for all the cash” she seductively offered, grinding ever so slightly on his crotch.

With Jade’s voluptuous body draped all over him, Mark was past the point of caring about money. When he didn’t answer her though, she stopped grinding and put his hands back on the sofa.

“All the cash” she said again.

“Yes” he breathed. “Please” he begged.

From his breathing, Jade knew that he was close to cumming already.

“Good boy” she smiled, curling his head in for another kiss. She tongued him deeply, driving him further into his lustful desires. She slowly started grinding again, her ass cheeks rubbing against the full-on tent in his pants.

After half a minute, she brought her face away from his, and was genuinely pleased with the dumb look of adoration on his face.

“Keep telling me you love me” she whispered in his ear.

Making her hip movements longer and deeper, she heard his honest affirmations of love

“Uhhh, I love you” he moaned.

“Keep going, baby” she encouraged.

“I ... love you so much” he said again.

“Yeah?” she prodded, grinding him deeper.

“So ... uhhAAHHhhhh” he yelled, his hips thrusting into Jade’s ass. Her flesh engulfed his pants, and he creamed himself with abandon, letting everything go. Spurt after spurt of cum filled his underwear, soaking through his pants, as if they, too, were attracted to this goddess.

The orgasm wracked his brain with long-awaited pleasure, with the reward he had desperately been searching for. His eyes rolled back as he lost control of his senses, every part of his body going numb.

It took almost half a minute for him to come back to his senses, to feel Jade’s soft hands cupping his face-

“You belong to me now, Mark” she told him.

Mark nodded his head, willing to agree to anything she said.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Hypnosis / Mind Control / Oral Sex / Petting / Sex Toys / Big Breasts /