It hurrrrts..." But her tortured words went unheeded by her sexually incited young husband. She had gone too far, and she realized that now.Breaking o...f his vulturish laving of her helplessly quivering body, he dragged her over to the bed and flung her unceremoniously down on it. In another moment she was imprisoned there by the heaviness of his body falling on top of hers. Her long blonde hair flung from side to side on the pillow in feeble protest as he struggled to get her legs up and spread. She was a woman of exceptional intelligence, whose potential had been crippled, in the context of her society and her time, by her low class status and a fatal self destructiveness ... inculcated by early trauma, sexual abuse by her father and others.Well, no matter. She was here, and she had the potential to fulfil the role that Zara had never quite proved herself in. She was, in fact, potentially perfect for the job, life having left her with few scruples and no illusions, while her. In order to save money, my parents dressed me in my sisters olddresses and skirts." I grew quite attached to being dressed like my sisters and when Istarted school, I wore shorts mostly so I could pretend to be a girl." When puberty hit, I shot up and could no longer pretend because my voicegrew too deep. But about that time, I met my wife Ruth and we fell inlove." She accepted my wish to dress as a girl and let me dress as my girl selfBecca when we were in her Dad's old tool shed. He never. Mike’s Dad had died twelve years ago from a sudden heart attack. No warning, no expectation. He’d been an active man, playing golf, jogging, even playing raquet ball. He’d played me and I wondered if he got any exercise out of it because he’d planted his feet firmly in the middle of the court and never moved, knocking the ball around all over the place, making me run like a humming bird on speed. And then one day he was just gone. Mike returned for the funeral. He didn’t even stay for the wake.