I couldn't believe hecould even do it. He said, "Get your sorry ass downstairs, punk. I'mnot sure that I don't want to have a DNA test to make sure ...ou're myson. I may have been too lax with you, but rape, or sexual assault, isthe end. You're about to learn about consequences."I ran downstairs. My Mom was waiting there, and the girl and herparents. I found out then that her name was Linda. Mom said, "Michael,this is the worst thing you could have done. I was raped when I wasLinda's age.. I tended to dress androgenously. I would always wear a prettybra (I needed one day to day) and pretty knickers, but would dressconservatively at work, dressing as prettily as I could at home.I saw a leading Psychologist during my transition (I needed his letterto get my operation done) and he suggested a change in hormone regime to3 Yasmin tablets daily. That was a great improvement, within three weeksI had negligible testosterone (checked with a blood test), more energyand my boobs had grown. This had thrown me for a loop. Never had anyone, let alone a guy, notice that I was wearing pantyhose. And I always wear a proper flesh tone colour so as to not arouse any stares in case something happens to show.I quickly tried to make my excuses. I gulped down the rest of my drink and made off to leave when he quietly suggested that we had a lot to talk about. He mentioned that he had seen me here before (which makes sense because I'm pretty well a regular), and that he had noticed me in. While she was packing, I had already been upstairs to shower and put my flowing sundress on, minus knickers as a surprise for Mike. I had re-shaved my pussy very carefully, scared of cutting myself. I had noticed some stubbly bits and wanted myself perfectly smooth, ready for Mikes tongue. As I entered the kitchen, Mum seemed to be finally ready and ignored Johns huffing and impatience. She kissed me goodbye and they set off, promising to be back by 7pm to make dinner. Nearly nine hours alone..