Not that I can do anything. My arm won’t lift, my body won’t move, actually, I don’t seem to have a body. I practise making myself known. I must...need to contact someone, to help my Elizabeth. I can’t do it myself, Pete, I mean St Peter, said so. It seems so weird to be casually thinking about St Peter, the guardian of the Pearly Gates. I wonder if he has to wash them? What a task. That must be my left over human-ness taking over, surely those things would be self-wash? I concentrate on Janice. After dinner I went and took a long bath and shaved myself, paying very close attention to the getting all the spots I tend to miss and cleaned every last inch of my body. A couple of fingers slid easily inside of my pussy, I could tell that I was going to be wet tonight. After my bath I dried off and put on a little red plaid school girl skirt and white blouse with no bra or panties. When Steve walked in the bedroom from the shower he was naked and dick was limp until he noticed my outfit.I. More

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