"He looked so nervous, yet also excited, I assume, to finally do something he had craved for a long time. He put on the wig, his hands trembling sligh...ly. I purred, "Good girl, Erica. When you have your wig on Eric ceases to exist and Erica, your slutty cocksucking alter ego, comes fully alive."This seemed to be the push he needed and he slowly leaned over and down towards my cock. He stopped, his head just above my lap. Needing the final push to become a faggot, I pushed his head gently onto. He was stiff and almost unable to move, but he found the inner will to keep going. It was almost dawn when he finally reached home. He had never been so glad to see such a pathetic ruin in his life. It took him two hours to draw enough water for a bath. He didn’t mind that it was cold. He just needed to be clean. It was during his twentieth year he had decided to leave England. It was no longer called England by then. It was a New World Order. So, he left Running Revival with nothing but his. More

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