They were a mixture of men andwomen, with a few more that might have been either. Without exception,they looked young and attractive. The men all wore...the same schooluniform I'd seen on Jason. By contrast the women, or proto-women - itseemed reasonable to suppose there were more like me - were dressed inthe same range of uniforms that I had been given. Each looked sexy andstunning, and if circumstances had been different I would have beencounting my blessings at being surrounded by such. ‘You haven’t told me anything, except that you’re under contract for something. Well, I want to know. What contract? What something?’ ‘I’m sorry, Christina,’ he said, picking up the suitcase and brushing past me. ‘I just can’t tell you.’ ‘And now you’re leaving?’ I said. I could scarcely believe it myself. ‘Just like that?’ I followed him in to the living room and toward the front door. ‘For you, Christina,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘I’m only doing it for you.’ with that he opened the door,. If I knew Ciera even a little bit better I’d ask her.”“But we don’t trust Ciera, do we?” Liz said.I shrugged. It wasn’t a matter of trust for me. She had ample opportunities to cause me massive amounts of pain (inadvertently or purposefully) but she’d always been careful.“Do we?” Liz asked again.“I guess not,” I said (because that was obviously the only answer that would suffice). “While we’re talking about secrets ... do you ever plan to tell people about ... the wedding?”“Mr. Blakely, you. Slowly reaching up, I traced my hand overmy new breasts, they had to be size 34d at least, an early bloomerdefinitely. Trying to stay calm, I took in every detail, long, slenderarms and fingers, the fingernails painted a frosted silver colour, longlegs with toned thighs, from riding or something else, she kept fit andactive, I knew that much. Knowing that I had to be sure that this wasn't areally vivid dream, I slid a hand under my skirt to feel for what I hopedwas there, instead of my cock, I.