Angry Walk

I stomp back home in my fancy outfit, mad as a hornet and alone. My chest heaves with fake breasts that feel like prison walls, trapping and suffocating me. My face is caked in makeup, an artificial mask that does nothing to hide my anguish. Extension hair hangs like heavy chains around my neck, dragging at my spirit and weighing me down.

I couldn't believe what had happened: my girlfriend had sent me out into the world dressed as a woman, only for her to lock me outside her house. She'd tricked me into thinking it would be fun to cross-dress up, but then forced me outside to pick up a few things, locking the door before I could realize what she had done. All I have is my phone, while my car keys are safely tucked away from my reach.

Then, she sent me a text message: "Just pretend you're your own girlfriend and walk back home now, honey. Imagine yourself to be a sexy woman who's about to get laid by her boyfriend soon. See you later at your place. C'ya~"

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