Hands grasped me by the arms, one on either side, manoeuvring me forward, guiding me toward the noise. My heart beat like a demented drummer as I shakily put one foot in front of the other.Suddenly we stopped our slow procession. A voice in my ear told me to just follow the rope around my neck, that there was nothing ahead of me to trip or fall over. Fingers brushed against my thigh, gathering up the end of rope. I wanted a pee, my knotting stomach twisted tighter, compressing my bladder. The rope tugged gently and I hesitantly stepped forward, gaining slightly in confidence as I set one bare foot down in front of the other. A loud cheer suddenly shattered my confidence, causing me to flinch and side step to my left as though hit by the sheer volume of the applause.My stomach felt so hollow I thought I would puke at any moment. The rope urged me forward and I pressed ahead, fighting the urge to just turn and run. But run where? I couldn't see and didn't have the freedom of my hands. Jim found himself wondering exactly what the two girls would say whenthey found out he couldn't even wait for them to get home before he gavein to the urge to try his new boots on. As he sat on the sofa, prettylegs crossed as if in their now natural position, his groin emitting afrustratingly sexual ache, Jim fretted that the girls might think that hewas some sort of cross-dresser or something, which Jim knew for definitehe absolutely wasn't (right?). What would he say to the girls if theyaccused them of being one? As his mind whirled, it subconsciously driftedback to his mantra and what Karen had said to him last night. He made hismind up that if the either of the two girls were to make an absurdaccusation that he was some sort of cross-dresser, he would defendhimself by saying that he was only following Karen's instruction, that heshould accept that he was a girly-girl (for the next few weeks at most)and that he just tried the boots on to see if they fit him properly, andmaybe even.
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