My life was very different before I met Paul. That is practically an understatement. While I was never particularly manly, I never once doubted my sexuality. I wasn’t going to sit squirming on a crowded train as another man reached between my thighs. I certainly never thought that I’d own more skirts than trousers. My entire wardrobe has been approved by Paul. He’s told me that if something I buy looks like the sort of thing a tomboy might have in her closet l am to burn it in the yard. And I don’t disobey Paul. “It’s a cold day,” Paul said whilst his fingers played with the hem of my panties. thought you’d like some warming up. How Paul got me in this situation would take more than a few paragraphs to explain. Needless to say, I did something stupid, and Paul took advantage of that. If I didn’t look so convincing with my hair grown out, some make-up plastered on my face, and my body all shaved from top to bottom, I would surely be in jail.
In a way, perhaps I should be thankful for my slight build. To any of our fellow passengers, we look just like any other young couple. Many born girls might actually be envious of me. Paul is handsome, after all. Perhaps I should own what he made of me. “It feels smaller than ever,” Paul chuckled as his fingers squeezed the tip of my shrunken member. “Truly, you have every right to wear the skimpiest of panties. If the shoe fits, wear it.” He held the pathetic proof of my male gender firmly with his fingers. There was no doubt about it. I felt my legs weaken as the confident grip began to feel more pleasant. As much as I wish it wasn’t so, l only ever feel true relief when Paul touches me “down there. “I love it when you rub it,” I moaned meekly as I leaned my head against Paul’s chest. Once in a while, I forget my past and willingly succumb. If others look at us and think we’re lovers, then maybe they aren’t entirely wrong. “Promise you’ll make out with me when we get back home, right?” Of course,” Paul said. “I have to reward good behavior, don’t l?”