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Warren Ashford hides a 24-inch steel-boned corset and C-cup silicone breast plate inside his luggage, transforming into Willow whenever business travel takes him away from Claire, his wife of twenty years who hasn't touched him in eighteen. When an Alpha Dom approaches him at a Miami investment conference and asks about his orientation, Willow's carefully curated online fantasies of forced feminization and public humiliation suddenly feel terrifyingly real, threatening to shatter the fragile line between Warren's tailored suits and the blonde bimbo desperate to be claimed.
Warren stands at the hotel bar, a glass of scotch sweating in his hand, when Dominic Rossi slides onto the next stool and asks, 'So which one are you tonight—Warren or Willow?' Warren's throat tighten
Warren goes home as a vanilla male. He sleeps in the guest bedroom now like he always does. Showers and goes to the office as fake male, an investment banker, a husband, his clitty permanently locked
Willow stands at the mezzanine desk in the black dress, her makeup has never been better, the corset so tight she is impossibly slender, her voice breathless, the nipples of the breast plate erect and