Fear occupies her body like some eldritch god, she can scarcely move. Well, not all of that is down to fear I realise soon enough. Her hands are bound... handcuffs tightened way too tight around her slim, bony wrists.I struggle, whimper, unsure now which sounds and actions are hers and which are mine. Her pulse drums in my ears. I hear footsteps and it quickens. There's that undercurrent of arousal of course, too ... that's not hers, that's mine. Fuck knows why this shit turns me on so much, but. "I jumped to my feet and immediately denied her allegations. Purely outof instinct, because she was right and I was deeply ashamed. Yes, Ihad been wearing my mother's clothes, but I wasn't ready to admit tomyself or anyone else that I really wanted to be a woman. Sure, Ithought about it. As a matter of fact, I thought about it constantly,but I always wrote it off as some weird fantasy. Fantasies aren'tsupposed to come true. That's what makes them different than goals andaspirations. I. More

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