There was Craig,sometime around his 16th birthday, dressed in typical plaid shirt, butwearing a skirt that barely covered his knees."Could I ask you t... do something for me, Jeff?"He looked up from the picture, ripping his eyes from his big brothersphoto."Sure." Would you let me see you in it? The skirt, I mean. I am your motherand we don't have to tell anyone."Jeff's face turned 3 shades of re. "I don't think I am ready yet, OK?"His mother looked at him with a warm smile that knew meant. Bean inspired attire perfectly, speaking wonders of how much muscle he actually had. Her father was a retired police officer and even in retirement had kept up his physique. The sweater and shirt underneath fit Caleb like a second skin. ‘So that’ll work, won’t it?’ she asked him, cringing a little. ‘I know it looks like old people clothing.’ Caleb plucked at the sweater and shrugged a shoulder, saying nothing. She gestured to a chair. ‘Take a seat and I’ll look at your cut. Obviously it’s still. It was not her fault, or necessarily her intention. It's just the way she was. We soon found that I had the same sort attraction. But I was never born to be a mistress. I was born to be a slave, and I will always be one. " She took a shaky breath. "I am a siren."I opened my mouth to make a snide remark, but shut it again. I thought of another, and another. It was a real effort to keep them to myself."I know what you are thinking, Frederick. No, I do not sit on rocks and sing at passing ships.. Is bech nisha ne kaha main kapde change karke aati hu ye usne mujhe sunate hue kaha tha wo upar chali gayi main mouka pakar upar chala gaya waha koi nahi tha nisha jis kamre me thi uski light jal rahi thi.main baju wale room me chala gaya waha koi nahi tha.aur nisha ke bahar nikalne ka wait karne laga.jaise hi nisha us room se nikli maine uska hath pakad kar kamre ke andar le aaya wo boli kya hai aur ye kya hai uske chahre par banawati gussa tha.wo boli yaha kyo laye ho maine kaha y hi baat.