" But I don't want it to be too permanent...I still am a boy, you know!" hereprimanded. "I cant go around with bangs." Don't worry, we can conceal them later," she assured him.As a finishing touch, she applied matching polish to his fingernails which hekept well groomed so as not to interfere with the harp strings. He offered noresistance to this. Admittedly, he agreed that indeed he did look like a verypretty girl, something he'd heard all his life and had been tired of hearing.His slender figure, thin arms, fair skin, now in a dress and stockings, hishair girlishly falling upon his shoulders in graceful waves, pearl earringspeeking out from the blond strands. His red lips and blushing cheeks weredefinitely not that of a boy. This was a young woman. At this moment, Terrydidn't feel like a boy anymore, either...he felt the way he looked. Yet hefelt shy to appear this way, and his shyness only added to the feminine aura.He took on an attitude of serenity, of maturity, of... femininity.. He commands me to call him master. I don’t. He commands me to undress. I don’t. I don’t even know why, cause I really want to, guess I just want to see if I can gain some control. I couldn’t.I guess that’s me trying to obtain some pride. But then in a matter of seconds he stripped me of my clothes, he tied his belt around my neck so tight I could barely swallow and fastened my hands to it. My wrists met my shoulder blades in a not so gentle way. Somehow I still felt like I had some control, like he was manipulating me into being scared, like he was testing me, and I him. I wouldn’t cave, I’ve never caved! With my hands fastened so that I couldn’t use them without choking I still felt like I had control. I was wrong.I was on my knees in his sofa with my head high and my wrists pulled as far back and up my back as they can come. Honestly I can’t remember if it was one of my remarks that made him throw me of the couch and on to the floor ore if he just had an impulsive.
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