But the point was rendered moot when she appeared in the doorway.

“You’re late,” I said.

“Sorry, I’m really sorry. My mom saw me coming up the walk and wanted
to talk to me about some stuff. Then I had to wait until I could sneak
away…”

“Fine, fine,” I interrupted her. She was really apologizing to me!
This was delightful – she was actually accepting the idea that I was in
charge here, and she had a responsibility to obey me. She must really
be afraid of those pictures, I thought.

“Now, to the matter at hand,” I said, closing and locking the door
behind us. “Stand there in the middle of the room and take off all your
clothes.”

She bit her lip and winced a little, but moved to the center of the
living room and began to strip. First came the shoes and stockings – I
was suprised to see she did not wear pantyhone, but old fashioned
stockings and lacy garters. Rich girls, I guessed. Next she took off
her sweater and blouse, then stepped out of her skirt. She did this
all very slowly, obviously trying to keep the ultimate moment away, but
I did not mind. It made her look so gracefull and lithe, and I wanted
to bask in the moment anyway. Finally, she stood there in her lacy
white bra and plain cotton panties, the latter with little pink bows at
the sides that matched the pink ribbon in her hair. She stood for a
moment, her hands trying to cover herself without appearing to do so,
and seemed to be unable to continue.