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." What you wanted your whole life," Heather completed."Yes," Mark said.They sat silent for a minute or 2."So where do you want this to go?" Heather asked. "This isn't just dress-up. You're developing breasts. You're shaving. You're wearingJennifer's clothes full time." I'm not sure," Mark said, looking down."If you could take it anywhere... ANYWHERE... where would you go with it?"Mark paused. "All the way," he admitted. "But I can't." Why?" Heather asked."Well first, because I'm not sure that's what Jennifer wants. Its surenot what she signed up for!" Ok. But what if she supported it?" Heather said.Mark thought about it. "I still can't." He looked down at his body. "Idon't want to look like some tranny 'chick with a dick'."Heather smiled... and snickered. She squeezed his hand again. Then sheturned and started clicking away on the computer.The screen changed to a head shot of a young guy in his late 20's or early30's with brown hair and blue eyes. On the other half of. Let’s get drunk together. Mom would never approve.”“Well I didn’t say get drunk,” he said and gave me a stern look. I frowned. “But that sounds like a great plan.” We both laughed. “And I won’t tell your mom if you don’t”“Oh daddy,” I purred. “What happens when mom’s away will never come out of my lips.” Daddy stopped and smiled at me. Then we both laughed again.Daddy poured me a nice tall glass of wine and he got himself a scotch. We drank and laughed and I did all of my flirting games. I made my titties bounce as I was talking. I pushed my boobs into him as I gave him a hug. I bent over to pick something up off the floor. I bent over to pour him more whiskey so he could stare at my cleavage. I walked behind him while he was sitting on the couch and wrapped my arms around his neck as I pressed my tits against his back. You know, all the stuff women pretend they don’t know they’re doing to men they want to fuck them.Three glasses of wine and a few scotches later daddy downed another.
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Several thoughts are rushing past each other in my head, and I struggle to focus on just one as the situation seems to grow worse. I suddenly remember that my man-made arm is still on show – quickly, I tap in over the wrist and it soon materialises from the shoulder down into a natural-looking arm. ‘The marshals are going room to room.’ She says it so calmly, as if it means nothing. I move closer to try and see with her, but she insists I stay behind her. I look around the clear window and up to the blinds – they need to go down. They need to… Oh. I quickly push into her from behind, causing her to stumble slightly, but nevertheless maintaining her place as I move up and proceed to lower the blinds over each section of window viewing between the corridor and our room. ‘I suppose you have a plan, Mr Silvanus?’ No time to explain it to her. I simply pin her hands into the blinds ahead of us and press myself in close. She struggles slightly, to which I lean my head in. ‘Just do as I.

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