Isaw myself in the persona of a 12year old girl. I had wornthe white sweater and black skirt that I loved. I had onvery frilly underwear underneath an... a lacy white half-slipand black pantyhose. As soon as I went under, the 12-year-old came out. Her name was Tanya. She was everything in thedreams and more. I watched myself move and act like a girl,and talk about a full life as a 12-year-old. It was justlike in the dreams.I had grown up as the only daughter of a successfulinventor. I had come to. Then with slow graceful movements, she slipped her arms into the loops and leaned forward to let her breasts fill the cups. Then, standing as before in a pretty lace bra, she reached for her blouse and smiled a tiny knowing smile at me. The light went out and I loaded wood into my arms and bumped the door to be let in."Oh, good; is it fairly dry?" she smiled. "Build us a fire, boy scout!"The fire was fairly successful; though not exactly a roaring flame, it was warm and cheerful. After dinner,. Back along the same route to the restrooms and break room, she hustled up the way, and before reaching either, she opened the white door to the room, which was simply labeled as “Copies”. Inside the work table was closest to the door, the supply shelves lined the back wall, and the laser printers and copiers lined the opposite wall. Above the work table hung the obligatory cork board, and pinned into it were all the company wide memos, notices, and HR required material, there for your. The basement was their armory and training room, complete with padded mats for sparing.Damien pulled off his leather duster and hung it on a coat rack then dropped his keys into a crystal bowel next to Abigail's. The music playing above was R&B, the base thudding through the house. His wife loved R&B. Damien listened and decided the music sounded like Boys to Men.She is feeling randy.The stairs creaked as Damien climbed. He pulled off his t-shirt as he passed the second floor, revealing his.