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"I want to act like a boy. Can you live with that?" I have no idea," she said again."Please?" The supplication in his voice was genuine. He was actually asking for her permission. Something like electricity shot through her and she shuddered."Maybe if you told me what you wanted to do..." she suggested in near panic.His fingers went to just barely trace the outlines of her breasts, stroking them so softly through her shirt and bra that she could barely feel it. Something inside her made her want to arch her chest ... to push her breasts against his fingers."I really want to see these," he said."You've seen them before," she said, her voice tight."You know what I mean."Her hesitation was only because she was having a hard time speaking at all. She felt strangely out of breath."Okay," she whispered.She didn't do anything. But that was okay, because he didn't mind lifting her shirt, and then making her arms go upwards while he pulled it over her head. She thought she must be insane as. Felicity was wearing a light, pink floral patterned maxi dress, that flared out from under her bosom and skimmed the floor. She looked so pretty and feminine. “Bradley and me are going into town for a bit of shopping, can you stay here with the girls honey?” Felicity said. “No problems Flicy,” I responded. I relaxed by the pool whilst the girls swam and splashed around. I sat there sunbathing, in my large rimmed straw hat and shades, and regularly oiled myself, adjusting my bikini. By the end of the day I had triangular bikini marks over my breasts which I loved! The rest of the week carried on this way, but with Bradley and Felicity spending days with me by the pool and in the grounds. Me and Felicity would often go topless even with Bradley there! it was bliss. The next day Thomas was due to arrive, and Felicity asked if I minded going to pick him up at the airport, and beforehand and do a bit of shopping if I liked. I dressed in a simple white lace and cotton dress that finished.
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I hurried aboutsetting the tin bath before the fire and heating water and they said, Don'twash her , that was the one thing the voices repeated, like somereligious chant, over and over again. But was it rape, to clean someone's wounds?Was it assault, to comfort someone who had sought sanctuary with you? I loved her body. She had been whipped, and burnt here and there, and punchedand kicked so that bruises swelled on her right thigh, and her ribs, and herleft upper arm. I disliked the bruises but I loved the burns, and the weltsof the whip. I traced the lines of them across her buttocks, and upper back,and the insides of her thighs, as I washed her with my clean white rag. Myfingers circled the burns around her right nipple. I wept, wept for her painand her terror. I wept for my own terrible appetites. It was like a dream, that Eliza hadbeen sent to me thus. I must be good to this woman. I must be good to this woman. I mustbe good to this woman. I chanted to myself like the monk my.

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