Holsteinxxx TG Lair

Sir Iacopo de Filotei observed the pieces of armor on display in the museum and sighed. He recognized the shoulder plate of his lord, the Grand Master of the Knights of Malta. The information card said that the Grand Master died in 1624, in the cursed battle in which his life changed forever.  "I'm sorry Grand Master, for I have fallen you," whispered in Latin Iacopo. He even felt sorry for the real occupant of his current body, Gabriella. She must have been terrified to suddenly ending up as a male knight during a battle with Ottoman soldiers. Probably she didn't even survived that first bout. Iacopo himself almost drowned when he was suddenly pushed into Gabriella's body while she was laying in what he later discovered was called a swimming pool.  It took weeks for the former knight to pierce together what happened and he still wasn't certain of every detail. Iacopo only knew that he was fighting the Ottomans when a black cloud appeared in the sky and starte...

"Honey, look what a cute swimsuit I got this time!" said Bill to his wife Hannah. Hannah nodded unsure how happy she should be anymore. Her husband had just came out from the male locker room of their local Bikini Beach, changed into what was Bill's female self. Billie, as liked to be called, was now wearing a black one-piece with three striped openings and four golden sea stars. It was indeed a cute swimsuit. Only, Hannah was starting to wish that Billie wasn't so enthusiastic about it. It was their fifth visit to Bikini Beach in less than three months. It was the third time that Bill got himself a weekend pass, without any prompting from his wife. The first time they visited it was a calculated one from Hannah, who convinced Bill to try the one-day pass. She knew that the magical private beach club would change every male guest for the duration of their pass. Hannah did it as a prank and hopefully a lesson for Bill. That first time, Bill came out of the locker shock...

"Hey gorgeous, would you like to have a great time?" I ask, trying to sound flirty. Six months in, I still hate having to sell myself for potential private dances. I still hate having to give private dances. Or stripping in general. Even having tits and a pussy is still a handful, since I've never wanted to be a broad. I guess I should thank the government for placing me in the special Witness Protection Program. They thought that making me a broad and placing me working as a stripper was the best way to protect me while keeping me in town. Who would think that mobster Jack Mondello is now a tiny, busty chick that gets naked for money? Nobody.  "What would you give me?" the guy says, as I gently caress his thigh.  I have leaned over him, showing in my rack. I can feel the sheer slutty dress tightening around my ass. I hate all these revealing outfits. The guy is bald, but strong and muscular. I guess he overcompensate the loss of hair with lots of gym. I used to...