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Then she opened her wardrobe and put my luggage in there. She locked both the doors carefully. Then asked me to leave her for a while and come quickly...whenever she will call me. I was standing there with several questions in my mind but could not speak. She told me once more to leave and added this is my punishment. I will stay naked whenever I am home and will be allowed to dress up only at her order. I left to my room and locked. The very moment she called me. I opened the room and attended. I feelashamed, cause she my cousin sister. I shouldn't have done this toher. I am from South Tamil Nadu.It was in my semester vacation of my first year, and she was studyingNinth Std. It all started from this point, in the night before mysister's marriage, she looked as if an angel. She is a mediumcomplexion, but...but really beautiful mean it. She was wearing silkblow and the bottom (pattu pavadai). I was instructed to look afterthe k**s who were playing on the Marriage's hall terrace. I saw. And that would be good. Well, not good, but not bad, either. But if I DO tell you, then something terrible could happen. But that's the future, and it could be altered. If..." Willie," I interrupted, "you aren't making any sense at all. What are you talking about? What's the matter? Tell me?"She looked into my eyes for a moment, then stood, holding out a hand to me. With the other, she picked up my bathrobe, which she'd obviously gotten from the closet while I slept. "You are my Master," she. My right hand was NOT my hand! I mean, it was attached to me, but it wasnot the same hand that had been attached when I had gone to bed. Holdingmy hands up side-by-side to compare, I began to evaluate the differences. My left hand looked exactly the same as it always had: light hair runningup to my first set of knuckles, short nails, wide palm, and thick fingers.While in comparison, my right hand was hairless, had long slender fingers,a rather narrow palm and long fingernails. Long *painted*.
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