Only the aftermath of my castration could compare with respect to how low I felt ? and that sadness was to a large degree fuelled by hormones. Master ...idn?t even comment on it, much less praise me for completing the disgusting job. He simply treated me fully and wholly as an object.A number of hours later, when I had stopped crying, he came back and did the same thing again. Since then I believe I have become the only toilet in the house he uses.I think it marks my final transition, this time. " She looked sad for a moment. "Don't want to break the mood, but I'm thinking, briefly of some very fine women that either didn't survive Dien Bien Phu, or were scarred by it. That I may think the French Republic is full of fools at the top doesn't mean that the nation cannot produce heroes and heroines, and actually may be better for heroines than our country."Enough of that." I closed my eyes as the vaguely apricot aroma of the tea reached my nostrils, when she most elegantly poured. The tea. Mene dekha vo mere lode ko dekh rhi hai. Fir gym karne ke baad vo boli tum changing room me wait karo . Mje aaj jyada pasine ki wjh se nahana pdega. Me changing room me uske bathroom ke bahr beth gya. Fir achanak se vo boli “Suno…. Meri bra bahr rah gyi hai… Kya tum mjhe paas kar sakte ho..Or plz mje mt dekhna mne kapde nhi pehn rkhe”.Mene uske bag se bra nikali or us dene laga or side se dekh lia.Vo us waqt poori nangi thi.Uske khule mote boobs or nipples dekh rha tha itne me hi usne mjhe. He stood right in front of me, naked with no sign of shame. “Or”, he grinned, “you could undress for me. I want to see you naked.”“Um”It was broad daylight. And my body was far from perfect. Well, tall, yes. Long legs, flat belly, yes. After that, disappointment. Next to no tits and broad shoulders. I looked down, wanted to look at the floor but instead stopped at his waist. Fuck, I wanted him. Now.Slowly I started to undress. The panty first. He had seen and explored that part of my body.