“Don’t make me repeat, strip.”As if on autopilot, I removed my T-shirt and pants. When I was about to remove the panties, he asked me to stop. He handed me a shoulder-length wig different from the one I was wearing the other night.“Put this on. When alone in our presence, you will be dressed Rakhi.”As I placed the wig on my head, he pulled out other things from the bag.“Go clean yourself,” he said, handing me an enema bag.“From now on, you will clean yourself twice a day, morning and evening, understood”?I stood dumbfounded.“Understood?” he was more stern this time.“Yes.”“Yes?”“Yes, Sir.”Sir? Why did I call him Sir?“Look how big a sissy slut you are. Look at that big wet patch. Have you been leaking all through,” he said, pointing at the huge wet patch in front of my panty. I blushed in shame.“Go slut, clean yourself, and come back. I need to leave.”It didn’t take me a long time to clean myself. I had remembered it from the first time Sheena did it. Even though I knew where this was. But first you should see your family... they've been very worried about you." They're here?" Sam asked."They've been here most of the last three days," the doctor said, rising to his feet. "I'll send them in."Sam's mother Caroline and his sister Joan entered the room quietly, as though expecting to find him at death's door. The two of them looked very similar -- his mother tall, with red hair and green eyes, his sister a bit shorter with auburn hair, but otherwise taking after her mother. Sam had always looked more like his father, James, whom he barely remembered. Sam grinned at his mother and sister as reassuringly as possible, and Caroline threw her arms around him and held him tightly."We were so worried about you," she said. Sam could feel that she was crying against him, and Joan's eyes were also bright. He was embarrassed, and guilty that he had worried them so much."It's all right, Mom," he said, patting her back clumsily. "I'm fine." How do you feel?" Joan asked, taking his.
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