The afternoon of a fawn. Indeed, his entire life, the entire score of their days together had been little more than foreshadowing. Such a gentle piece... sun-warmed and infinite. So like her smile. So unlike the life he dreamed of. He remembered watching her play later that winter, viola or piano, it didn’t matter. Profound genius. That was what they said of her, that was what he knew in his heart when he felt her play. Then she was gone, with only a few chance sightings after that breezy autumn. She had a shaving mirror that she used to check her manufactured vagina, probing it and eyeing the results. She gently rubbed the nub of flesh that had once been part of her glans, but was now her clitoris, then reached into the drawer of her night table for her sound, or dilator -- basically, a glass dildo -- which she used a couple of times every day to stretch her vagina. This was a requirement -- an exercise she had to do to keep it from shrinking up as it healed -- something she CERTAINLY. Within seconds I was ready to cum. I took one last deep breath and proceeded to turn the crotch of the panties inside out. I rubbed the head of my cock against the cottony crotch as I continued pumping my shaft with the other. Before long I felt that same twitch in my balls. This time I watched as the first spurt of cum shot over its intended target, but with each subsequent spurt landing directly into the crotch of the panties. I milked my cock to pull every last drop of the white gooey. Strong enough totease her, but not so strong as to bring her to orgasmor to be heard. He checked the clip on the belt to make sure it wasfirmly secured, and then switched the vibrators on. Shestood still, patiently awaiting his command.He then brought out a blanket and two nipple clampsfrom a drawer in the desk. He put the clamps on hernipples, just enough so that there would be steadypressure, and then spread the blanket on the floorunder the desk. Then he ordered her under.She crawled under.