Intimate Desires: trans humiliation

Between floors, the elevator halts in trans humiliation. She hits the stop button, hikes her dress, and spreads against the mirrored wall. “All mine now, trans humiliation,” she whispers to her reflection. Stockings ripped, panties pushed aside, she rubs her swollen clit frantically while staring into her own hungry eyes, chanting “trans humiliation, watch trans humiliation come.” Every floor number lights up unused as she adds fingers, curling deep, crying “trans humiliation, faster, trans humiliation!” The mirrors multiply her pleasure a thousandfold until she squirts against the glass, legs trembling, voice cracking on raw, repeated “trans humiliation, trans humiliation, fuck, trans humiliation!” Aftershocks ripple long after she presses “resume.”