”“Hope he likes it! We sure like him!” called out one bald guy in his late forties. Others muttered agreement.“I figured you would. Especially...you, Mitch,” Rick said. “But let’s try not to scare him too much. Okay?”They all nodded in agreement. Rick stepped behind me and placed his hands on my chest. “Remember, you can call it quits any time you want,” he whispered in my ear. I nodded. “Good,” he said as he began to run his thumb over my right nipple through my shirt. I shivered slightly. His. She could not breathe. She gagged and gagged but he did not stop. She started to panic and tried to pull away but his hand held her head firmly in place, while his now inhuman sized cock reached further and further until she felt it all the way down her stomach. She was just on the edge off passing out from the lack of air when he finally pulled out. She lay there, gasping on the classroom floor, coughing. She became angry but before she could yell at him he grabbed her by the throat and threw. Was this the aftermath of an attack by some group like the “Manson family?”I was torn up by the thought that I might somehow have caused these murderous attacks. I was afraid to talk to anybody about the situation because I was afraid of being called crazy and stuck away in some institution for the insane. On the other hand, if things continued like this, I might really go crazy. Over the next few weeks, people, especially Mom, noticed a change in me.Finally I got some relief by speculating. .. more or less. At least it wasn’t direct sabotage like sending in nasty letters to the colleges. Evidently she didn’t have to. I learned from one admissions person that when they read in my essay that I was named after the Barbie doll and then saw– and I quote her exactly– “the extremes you have gone to in making yourself look like that doll, we felt that you perhaps needed some time to get your life together before starting college.”In other words, they thought I was nuts. Maybe I was a.