At thismoment he was more concerned with why, after emerging from the tunnel, hewas wearing a white pleated skirt.Or why his legs seemed smaller, smoo...her.Or why he suddenly felt long hair.Why he was wearing a pink T-shirt.Why he inexplicably looked like a girl.His first reaction was to check out everyone else on the train. He wasfrantic, searching the faces of his fellow passengers hoping to find atrace of the anxiety he currently felt.Nothing. Not a hint of the abnormal.He went back to. But she didn’t say no, and she was still breathing hard. ‘Now the next thing is your skirt,’ I said. ‘I can hardly wait to strip you stark naked so I can see everything those dirty old men saw, but it’s more exciting this way. Do you like to be stripped?’ ‘I’ve never been stripped. I’ve always had to peel myself.’ ‘How about being naked, with a man looking at you? You liked that at the nudist club, didn’t you? There wasn’t supposed to be anything sexy about it, but I bet you loved them looking. More

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