Planning the seduction

"I bet he's a perv. No way he'd turn up the chance to slam a babe like this," you think, ogling yourself in a full-length mirror an ex had left. "God knows I'd jump on this beauty given the chance. And I will."

Snickering, you pry yourself away from the luscious female form in the mirror and ponder how best to guarantee that you could change him into this girl.

Reluctantly you pull off the boots, removing the paper with the description. It feels weird to have an erection when a moment ago you didn't have a dick, but you rub yourself casually as you try to think how you should modify the girl. You want her to be an overwhelming temptation for him, but an easy conquest for you once he's put on the boots.

Grinning, you rub yourself harder, fantasizing about what would make her even more perfect to you. Brainstorming, you start jotting things down on the list. After all, you can always scratch them out later.

"Masochist, very submissive, slut, low self-esteem, daddy-issues, naive, gullible, dumb and sends out a silent vibe to one and all that screams victim."

You've no idea if you can make changes that aren't purely appearance, but you figure they'll help land him and keep him more controllable when you do. Thinking about it you jot down a few more ideas, this time about her physically.

"Brow ring, lip ring, second tongue stud, pierced clit, pierced clithood."

Breathing more heavily now, your hand shaking a little from arousal, you consider more options. You've always loved porn bimbos, so you take a few ideas from there.

"Obviously fake tits, lots of make-up, never wears less than 4-inch heels, prefers going pantiless. Has tattoos: 'Cheap', 'Whore', 'Easy Access' tramp stamp, 'Harder'

Tossing down the pencil while you think about which, if any, of those you should use. After reading through them again you're unable to decide which you should keep, and which you should remove. Instead you decide to mull it over while you take care of other preparations. It crosses your mind to rub one out before you go, but you her to be horny, and for you to be ready to fuck the dumb bitch.

"Now where are those handcuffs?" you mutter, and go off in search of other supplies. At long last, equipped with the things you figure you'll need you come back out, tuck the paper into the little pocket, and look around, pondering how to get there and feeling like you've forgotten something.