Not willing toargue, I accepted what he gave me and smiled as his free hand cupped andcaressed my right breast."I'll arrange your final surgery soon, ...hen you can truly become MaryBeth Anderson," he told me as I drank some of his coffee. The thought ofhaving my cock taken away scared me, even though I'd never use it again,and it didn't suit the rest of me now.After he had finished breakfast, he had a shower and got dressed. Hemainly wore authentic Harley gear and had ordered me a sizable. ‘Did you want to lie down,’ Jaime asked as he tested the commands. ‘I…uh…I…don’t know.’ Mitchell’s mind was slowing down. Unable to make a decision, he began to feel numb. He was almost paralyzed across his entire body. Jaime realized it was time for the commands to begin. The craving for commands was about to start within Mitchell. ‘Mitchell, turn off the television,’ Jaime said. Mitchell picked up the remote control and turned off the set. ‘Very good, Mitchell,’ Jamie said. ‘Now put the. Something to wear to keep myself under control.I looked to my left, to the bedroom proper. Suddenly Mom’s insistence to “See what you can find” held more meaning than just clothes. I had an idea. It was so simple, so stupid, and so possible. What if Dad left the locket in his dresser? What if he left it here in the house? I certainly wouldn’t have many chances to look through his things. Not like now. So, I turned and headed to their bedroom.The master bedroom was spacious. At the north end of. My only excuse is that I was so caught up in the fever of telling my tale of adventures on the high seas that it escaped my notice in my haste to put down the details before they vanished into the dark recesses of my wine-addled brain.I was born on board a ship floundering in the grip of a desperate storm just south of the Equator to a female captive of a Frenchie Privateer out of some hell-hole in the dismal islands off the coast of Argentina. That Frenchie was a right bastard both in reality.
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