This made me feel more girly. Not only did I have tits,but I couldn't get an erection any more. I didn't need the glass by mybedside.Conscious that I ...eeded to look my best in the office, I shaved my facetwice and used the depilatory cream on my legs. I had decided to wear adress that came just above the knee. I thought it would look business-like; short enough to show off my legs, but long enough (I hoped) toavoid displaying my stocking-tops or underwear. I had a light breakfastof juice,. By far the worst was the parasitic infections that drained me of my strength and my will to resist.In six months I was probably raped a hundred times. Trust me there is no such thing as laying back and enjoying it. Rough sex is one thing, real rape is quite another. Real rape is never about sex, it is about power. Who has the power and who doesn't.I remembered it all and I had dreams about it all. The doctor wanted me to see a therapist. We both recognized that I suffered from PTSD. We just. “Well THAT was a pretty pansy-ass attempt at a chapter. What happened to getting into the breeding session featured prominently in our title?! I mean, what purpose did this chapter serve? Please enlighten me.”He was right, of course. I had let the focus of the narrative get away from me and ended up writing a pretty shit chapter. I should have just gotten into the meat of the story like I said I would, and I let Dad know as much the next time I spoke with him. For his part, he actually. Fortunately, she didn't ask me to confirm her opinion. She motioned forme to come and watch the reality show she was watching with her, but myfaux masculine side told me not to. I declined and went to the computerto look up sports results.It was a pretty ridiculous thing to do. Here I was wearing a bra, tightsand a dress and I was still trying to show my wife that I was a realman!When dinnertime came, my wife took to making it. She served me as I satdown at the table. We had our normal.