Femdom and femboy

As we walked home, the cool evening air brushed against my skin, heightening my sense of empowerment. David, now my obedient companion, trotted beside me, his smaller frame a stark contrast to my towering figure. The city buzzed around us, with other women leading their own submissive partners, some dressed in attire provided by their mistresses, others completely naked. I tightened my grip on David's arm, feeling his slight tremble as I pulled him closer. My arousal grew with each step, the power dynamic between us exhilarating. Once inside, I wasted no time, pushing him onto the bed. His eyes met mine, a mix of fear and desire.

"You know, this could be better if we were bigger." I say to him.

I took the book and write.

Old rule: women are 7 feet tall except me who is 9 feet tall.

Old rule: men are femboy. Peaples who are 4 feet tall but have dick the size of their legs. Wich must be hold by a bikini.

I clossed the book to admire the changed reality

As I stood there, towering over David at an astonishing nine feet tall, I couldn't help but marvel at the world I had created. The rules I had written had transformed reality itself, and the sight before me was nothing short of intoxicating. Women, now averaging seven feet in height, moved with a newfound confidence, their presence commanding and powerful. The men, reduced to four feet with their exaggerated features barely contained in bikinis, scurried about, their submissive nature evident in every glance.

"Now David, let's fuck*