SachiGrl
Indecisive Being
Mademoiselle Mim
Mim took notice of Clair's sudden halt in her laughter as he carried her, but it did not stop l'homme. Whistling nonchalantly a song called Silbo, written by a French musician Féloche, both his and Clair's luggage rolled behind them without anyone holding them. This was another trick up his sleeve. Mim was able to manipulate objects. It's handy when he's a frail woman or in this case holding one. He gave her one large undeniably cocky grin as he watched her face redden so. Alas, the petite femme was put on the ground; she was as quiet as ever. It took a few moments for her cough to break the silence between them. He did not mind the silence. There was much to admire particularly mademoiselle Clair. He'd look at the seemingly newly built school in awe then at Clair with a expression far more expressive of awe. She, at last, admitted wanting his other 'self'. He gave her a puzzled look, "Mais je suis Mim!" He let out a frustrating sigh, "If you insist," he gave the side of her cheek a gentle caress then *poof* Miriam returned to her original sex.
"Oh! I'm so sorry! Excusez mon comportement!" her cheeks suddenly reddened as well, "I'm more attracted to la femme when I am a man!" She adjusted her white polka-dot skirt self consciously and continue to walk beside Clair. She looked about just as she did. Miriam went to college, yes. It wasn't as clean nor new nor as beautifully sculpted, but nonetheless they were similar. She looked at Clair as she spoke, still feeling the tinge of attraction her masculine side had felt, she ignored the feeling and replied her exact thoughts on the school, "Bien, the school is much, much cleaner than all my college years, but le même.. ehh.. same in functionality." She had gotten tired and found a seat; she crossed her pretty little legs and placed her hands neatly folded over her knee. Her pink luggage with her brown potion bag on top of it came rolling beside belatedly. Miriam help push Clair's luggage from behind, so it caught up to her much faster.
Mim took notice of Clair's sudden halt in her laughter as he carried her, but it did not stop l'homme. Whistling nonchalantly a song called Silbo, written by a French musician Féloche, both his and Clair's luggage rolled behind them without anyone holding them. This was another trick up his sleeve. Mim was able to manipulate objects. It's handy when he's a frail woman or in this case holding one. He gave her one large undeniably cocky grin as he watched her face redden so. Alas, the petite femme was put on the ground; she was as quiet as ever. It took a few moments for her cough to break the silence between them. He did not mind the silence. There was much to admire particularly mademoiselle Clair. He'd look at the seemingly newly built school in awe then at Clair with a expression far more expressive of awe. She, at last, admitted wanting his other 'self'. He gave her a puzzled look, "Mais je suis Mim!" He let out a frustrating sigh, "If you insist," he gave the side of her cheek a gentle caress then *poof* Miriam returned to her original sex.
"Oh! I'm so sorry! Excusez mon comportement!" her cheeks suddenly reddened as well, "I'm more attracted to la femme when I am a man!" She adjusted her white polka-dot skirt self consciously and continue to walk beside Clair. She looked about just as she did. Miriam went to college, yes. It wasn't as clean nor new nor as beautifully sculpted, but nonetheless they were similar. She looked at Clair as she spoke, still feeling the tinge of attraction her masculine side had felt, she ignored the feeling and replied her exact thoughts on the school, "Bien, the school is much, much cleaner than all my college years, but le même.. ehh.. same in functionality." She had gotten tired and found a seat; she crossed her pretty little legs and placed her hands neatly folded over her knee. Her pink luggage with her brown potion bag on top of it came rolling beside belatedly. Miriam help push Clair's luggage from behind, so it caught up to her much faster.