The nipples on her lovely breasts were perked as the cold air licked them. He could see her shaking as the cold air caressed her body. He smirked, proud of his work on her so far, but he was not done yet. He dug into his pocket, and pulled out some rope. At first, Rosaline panicked, and squirmed a bit, nervous about what he had planned. She watched him cautiously, while he was studying her reaction to such an objection. She could see him roll his eyes, and smirk. "Wh-What are-" "Silence, it will be alright." His voice could not hide the great desire he was feeling for her. The man took her wrists in his hands, and used the piece of rope he had to tie them to the bed post, so that she could not move. Rosaline could feel her desire growing, and was somewhat embarrassed by it. She wondered why he made her feel this way. She wondered why she secretly loved it when he tied her wrists to the bed post, and wondered why her desire was so strong for such a man. She wanted to see his naked. I woke up the next day inside an unfamiliar room. Witha silk violet camisole, and a weird dizziness thatlater I understood was from the medicines thatthey used on me for the last two weeks.I saw my self on the mirror but I didn't recognizethe girl that looked back at me. Slowly I lifted thehem of my camisole to see that my pink panties didn'tcontain my small penis.I took them off to see that I had now a mound of skin,divided by a slit, making me the perfect girl.The door swung open and my Dad came into the room witha black and white maid uniform, and his hair done intoa high bun on his head. He wouldn't let mecall him Dad, he just told me to call him Maria andnothing else, and that he was on the service of mymother that he called mistress.I survived the days, with the continuous lessons ongirlhood, on how to sit, run and dance, with theboring ballet lessons, that were really tedious withtheir fragile movements, their pink tights and theblack leotards.I knew that we weren't in Oakland.
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