I looked down as I shuffled a few pages together and saw quite a way up her navy hockey skirt, since the two halves had flapped open. Her legs were sm...ooth and slim and right at the top was a tantalizing bit of her white panties. “You’re so pretty,” I said, truthfully. “Thank you, so are you,” she said. You have lovely hair.” In those days, my natural blonde hair was almost to my waist. I was proud of it too. “Yeah, everyone is jealous of my hair,” I said. “Hmmm…it’s sexy.” I’m not sure she. "Let's get some shoes on and I'll walk you over to the clinic," I offered."Oh God, no," she answered, wrapping her arms around her with a horrified look on her face.It was precious! She was so innocent she was terrified of telling a nurse she'd had anal sex! Once again I had to force myself not to laugh."Well, then what?" I asked, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. Having her say it would be much more fun, however. "I was wondering if..." she started. I nodded to encourage her.. "I don't know..."Within moments, you both can feel it in the subtleties of the interaction: she is a man submitting to being a woman for the sake of love and habit and fond memory. You are a woman asserting a maleness no longer yours by rote, and it shows: your approach is too overt, too brusque for the sensitivity of the changed viewpoints. The old learned finesse is gone, along with the easy familiarity on which it was based."Let's..."The clash is communicated by flickers of expression in a. She held her head in her hands, partly in shame, partly in desperation, and then realized for the first time that she was actually naked now. The night before she had been bound, and dressed, though her clothes had been lifted to grant access. Now, everything had been removed. She was no longer bound. Her movements freed. She could escape! She looked around the room for a way out. However the only door was made heavy wooden oak, reinforced with iron bolts. Escape through that way, was.