When they entered the house, I welcome them and asked them to have a seat. I then got tea and breakfast. Sultana was checking me out. Zareen came stra...ght to the point.She said: Son-in-law, I know about your condition and your nature. We are happy to marry my daughter to you but you are to follow certain rules:1. Sultana will be the bread-winner for your family.2. Sultana is free to do anything and you don’t have a say. Her decision is final.3. You are slave to both of us and you will do all. Howcan you possibly be a woman? I'm not married to a woman! Don't besilly! But at the same time as I was thinking how ridiculous this was,flickering at the edges of my thoughts, not really forming coherently,but there all the same, came memories of magazine articles andtelevisions programmes I'd read and seen of married men who after yearsof marriage had undergone sex change surgery and had become women.These men were transgendered, they were transsexuals! Was this what wasreally happening to. " Hmm...then he was the hunky workman and you were the sexy neighbour whopopped in to offer him a mug of tea? And maybe more besides?" It wasn't like that at all," she protests. "What d'you take me for? Itwas coffee."She goes on to tell me that the relationship only really got going in therun-up to Christmas, when Dave's landlady decided to sell the house he'dbeen renting from her to a property company rather than fork out the ?1300it would have taken to pay for the repairs a local government. "Someone please help, oh God, oh God!" Pleased with this reaction, Lennie twisted again, this time counter-clockwise. More screams. He released the nipple, which was purple and bore the impression of the grooves from the pliers. The girl was crying like a child now, in hitches, her chest heaving. Lennie licked her injured breast, rough tongue against smooth skin. He sucked and nibbled, slobbering all over her. Then he moved up, kissing and biting her neck, her chin, her cheeks. He began.