”“No. No. No. No bath,” she protested even as I was taking off her shirts.She was begging as I got off her three layers of pants, two pairs of tights, and what were once a pair of cartoon nylon panties.I had the bath half-full of warm water when she shut down.The girl wasn’t quite unconscious but was more like a posable human doll.The girl still has her cherry! No need for a special team to get you out, you bitch! How did she get that in her?I rubbed the girl’s hair and her face until she opened her eyes to look at me.“Please? No more bath.”“Sorry, kiddo, you are going to stay in this tub until you are clean,” I told her. “But this is getting out of you. I hate these nasty bitches.”If only it were telepathic!Right as I told her I was getting the parasite out of her, it reacted, and I quickly found every part, every tendril, with a shield around it. I then “encouraged” it to get out of her body.It was coiling up at the back of her vagina when I told her, “This is going to hurt, but I. Especially if it’s upsetting you.’ Turning away from her, I lowered my face and thought about it. Was it too much? Did I really want to go through with this? Was I happy dressing up as a woman? My emotions ran topsy-turvy through me as I thought about the last few days. On the one hand, I’d really enjoyed it. The incredible sex, the closeness I felt with Hannah, even the shopping had kind of been fun. And as Hannah had said, it all seemed to come naturally to me. On the other, I was scared of losing myself, my masculinity, the thing that made me who I was. But who was I? At the moment, I really didn’t know. What I did know was that, from the moment I got home from work and went upstairs, I was Carla. I wasn’t playing a part or dressing for fun or doing it to please Hannah, I simply felt feminine. And deep down, I knew I didn’t want to lose that feeling. With that realisation, I suddenly became aware of the possible consequences of choosing to keep Carla. It would mean hours of being.
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