She wondered why she didn’t feel rage or at least curiosity about the reasons for the little girl to kill her, but she didn’t. The cycle completed...it started anew. No sound, no warmth, no time, no rage, no curiosity, nothing, not even boredom, she didn’t feel anything.“Very unfortunate, that’s what it is,” a male voice interrupted.“Unfortunate? It’s a damn mess striving to become a disaster!” A female voice commented.“Whatever, we can’t keep her in concourse. There are laws even we have to. With my left hand, I picked up a book randomly from the stack. It was not about she-males. It was called "Panties for Peter" and said it was an illustrated TV novel. TV? Oh, yeah. Transvestite.Only I would look that closely at a time like that, but I saw it was copyright 1969. A classic. It was the story of a young man named Peter whose mother decided to make him into a young girl named Petra. The illustrations were very detailed and very stirring.Peter was a pretty young fellow of about. “You TOLD him? How could you? How COULD you?”“I could never get away with lying to my dad -- he has a sixth sense. He’s okay with it, Mae. He understands and he’ll protect our secret.”“I wish I could be so sure.”“He doesn’t have a prurient interest in you -- he was looking out for my welfare.”“Your welfare?”“Yeah -- he was worried that I didn’t know.”Mae regarded me and giggled. She put her hand over her mouth and laughed. “Your dad thought his innocent little boy had been fooled by some .... His cock buzzed as he saw that this woman would have it no other way; what the hell, no-one else wold know. She picked up the garments he’d nodded approval to and ushered him forward.“Let’s go to the cubicles now.” He watched her large but firm arse wiggle in the tight black skirt; her legs and heels not helping him disguise his now full erection. She passed articles to him before he drew the curtain and stepped away, so as to make him think she could not see him strip. She smiled.