Suddenly the riding crop flashed and struck Shelia’s right nipple, causing Shelia to scream in pain. Racheal told her when I say strip it means eve...ything including the sandals. Shelia quickly pulled off the sandals and replied ?sorry Mistress Racheal?. Racheal then nodded to Jasmine who locked a 3?wide steel collar around Shelia’s neck. Shelia recognized it as a shock collar, and hoped it wasn’t set on high. Then Jasmine cuffed her hands behind her back with a pair of hinged handcuffs and. "You're a woman now, and there are only women here. What about down there?" I pointed to her pubis."I'll do that," she said hastily. Then I saw the shock as her exploring fingers found her new anatomy. I was not sure how coordinated she was yet, but the sooner she got used to the more intimate parts of her body, the better. I handed her the soap and a cloth. She gave a small cry of wonder as her male hair stripped off, leaving her with a small neat roundish patch."Deja vu all over again,". I lift my heels to the table, opening myself completely. Leaning back on my arms, I slit my eyes to watch him. That’s all the stimulation I need, the sight of his youthful body, full of grace and strength, glistening with sweat and lust as he pumps deep into me. As he holds the edge of the table and thrusts hard and fast, his six-pack abdomen ripples with his exertions. There’s no time for foreplay or finesse. There never is, but I don’t want either one. I want to be fucked. I moan; I can’t. Some Saturdays we would go to a café for morning coffee, in the city, to read the morning papers. One time we went there, Sarah was wearing a fairly short skirt, certainly above knee-length, which had a bit of a split up one side. We went into an open courtyard of the café, walking down some open, iron steps, almost like a fire escape to get to the tables. At the bottom was a table which is where I would sit if I went there. Any guys sitting there would be able to look up the skirts of any girl.
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