He reclined against the tall rest, wearing only a flounced shirt of the finest lawn which, I could see, was opened to the waist, exposing his muscular and darkly hairy chest.“The lamb to the sla-ghter,” he chuckled gently” I trembled like an aspen. It was happening, finally it was happening at last, and there was no way in the world I could stop it. Something deep within me thrilled like a bowstring as he picked up his great long cane from the desk top. They had both been drinking from cut glass carafes, Miss Temple’s golden and the man’s port-red.“Come Jane,” said Miss Temple in a voice I had never heard her use before, so soft and dewy with smiling sensuality was it, “do not be so frightened.”“know what you are here for girl?”“Yer-yess, sir.”“what?”“To take…for you to take my maidenhood.” He grinned largely “D;ye think I can?”Yes sir “Come, let’s see then Come, come, as I hesitated and his stick twitched at my nightgown, “your honey pot c***d”. Let’s get a good look at it now.”I. My legs. My breasts. It wasgross, dirty, a humiliating, dripping sucking clinging goopy reminder ofmy new warped femininity.And it was heaven. Cool and refreshing and soft and dripping and suckingand clinging and goopy. I scooted along the shore, kneading my roughscaly back into the mire. Grapped handfuls and smeared my face andshoulders. I even flopped over onto my belly, propped once again on mytits, embarrassed, emasculated, but so hungry for the cool that I stillcontentedly ground my nipples into the chill soothing slime. I laythere, relieved, wallowing in the muck like a proper bog creature. Ifelt ridiculous. I felt content. Drowsily, I wondered if anyone had everthought of she-troll mud wrestling.Sleep found me again.-----I awoke to another sickening, bubbling groan from my stomach. I didn'tknow what a troll's metabolism was supposed to be like. I wouldn't havethought it was that high given how much problem I was having withtemperature regulation. But either way, I didn't seem.
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