From SaraSissyGirl Blog

NSFW
(pictures added -ed)
January 22, 2013 first
Stare at her
pussy all you want, but you're never getting past her feet, sissy.
Posted
by Saragirl at 11:12 AM 1 comments
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Maison Lejaby:
The Summer 2013 Couture collection
Source | Lingerie Blog by Petite Coquette
Posted
by Saragirl at 10:51 AM 0 comments
Monday, January 21, 2013
Why? I don't
know, there's just something I like about teasing you until you beg me to stop.
Posted
by Saragirl at 11:37 AM 0 comments
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
I guess I'm in a
"caught" mood.
They were supposed to kidnap the CEO, who was supposed to be
home alone, and were stunned to find him gone, just a maid there instead. From
sheer panic, they took her along, have not yet discovered that the maid IS THE
CEO.
Posted
by Saragirl at 11:12 AM 1 comments
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
"Next time we sneak into a gangster's headquarters, you're
the one dressing as a girl!"
Posted
by Saragirl at 11:09 AM 0 comments
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Working
undercover as a woman seemed like a good idea...until he got caught.
Posted
by Saragirl at 11:07 AM 2 comments
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
"So, the home comes with all appliances: washer, dryer, refrigerator,
stove, microwave, and dishwasher," the real estate agent told the couple
walking through the elegant Victorian home.
"What about her," the well dressed man asked.
"Um, I know it's rather unusual, I...I never had a listing like this
before, but that...that's actually the owner's, um, husband...um," she
looked down at the listing sheet, "a sissy, I guess he...she's called. She
was insistent that he...she...be left on display during any showings."
The woman looking at the home squeezed her husband's arm. "We know she's a
sissy," she said, eyes brimming with the thought of possibilities,
"we're asking if she comes with the house."
"I...can't imagine," the agent stammered, ashamed that she had to
show the house with such a thing on display, looked to the listing sheet again.
"Oh...OH!"
"What," the woman asked.
"It says...it says...it's negotiable."
Her husband had wandered over to the tied sissy, let his hand wander to the
crotch rope, tugged at it. "Are you pre or post op," he asked.
"Hmmmggfff," she groaned through her gag.
"Silly me, of course. Do you still have your sissy clit?"
The sissy nodded, eyes fluttering as the rope tightened on her tucked organ.
"Does it still grow?"
She nodded again, eyes begging.
"Sandra," he turned to his wife.
"I want it, Richard, the house. The sissy, too."
"You're sure?"
"Oh, I'm sure, Richard, I'm sure."
Posted
by Saragirl at 10:35 AM 2 comments
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Just so one
thing's clear, love, that little sissy clit of yours is NEVER going inside me
Posted by Saragirl at 10:22 AM 1 comments
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Comments
Post a Comment