Two personalities, Buffy Summers and Michael Caldwell, were now engaged ina constant tug of war inside of me. Sometimes I only impersonated theformer,...at other times I really was her. It felt completely natural to meat one moment and unbearably fake at the next. It was self-evident thatthis could not last. Even if I somehow managed to maintain my basic sanityin the middle of all this, the balance of power between the Buffy and Mikepersonae would eventually change--in her favor. This was her. I put her hand back at her side and she looks over at me with hungry eyes, then down to the visible bulge in my pants. She reaches out to grab it, but I slap her hand again. "This is not for me, it's for you" I say gently. She resigns and holds her hands to her side as she looks straight up at the ceiling, face red as fire.I finally ask if I can take off her panties. Instead of answering she reaches down to take them off. She pushes them down, then pulls her legs up in the air to pull them off. More

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