Memories

As Jenny lay there, bound and exposed, her mind drifted back to those first overwhelming moments after the swap, the memories vivid and disorienting, like a dream that felt too real. The sensation of emasculation hit her first—her once-familiar strength and presence replaced by a delicate, almost fragile frame. She felt tiny, her body small and ****, yet obediently submissive in a way that sent shivers through her core. Her new shaven sex was a revelation—puckered, wet, swollen, and achingly receptive, a stark contrast to the cock she’d known her whole life, now replaced by a sensitive nub, her clit, pulsing with every fleeting thought of surrender. It felt so wrong, yet oh so right, as if her body had always been meant for this. Her breasts, small and rounded with erect nipples, tingled under the lightest touch, and when Master pinched them, the sharp jolt of sensitivity made her gasp, her body betraying her with its eager response. Master—her old body, now towered over her, commanding her reality. What had she done?