“I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Larson, but six more students have dropped off withdrawal slips from the same class. Two of them were carrying signs ...hat say ‘Support Art. Get Rid of the Bitch’.”“What on earth?” Ms. Larson said. “Call Dean Kramer. We need to head this off right now.” She turned to Kendra and me. “If you had a part in organizing this, you may be expelled from the college. We have no tolerance for student rebellion.”“We left the class and came directly here to withdraw,” Kendra. My instantaneous response to her simple command was not lost on my mother, who stared at me with an incredulous look, as though she had seen a magic trick and could not figure out how it was done. She began to ask, "Ah, how..."Mrs. Reynolds interrupted her, "Yvette, may I speak with Samantha alone for a minute?" She backed my mother out the door with the force of her presence and closed it. Mom was still looking at me with her hand to her mouth as the door closed and cut her line of sight.Mrs.. Unable to resist, she uses one slender finger to slowly stroke her rigid little clit while tracing the outer lips with fingers from both hands. Her silvery nectar soon coats her fingertips causing gloss-red polish to glisten under the lights. Her eyes close with renewed desire and the other patrons seem forgotten. She rocks her hips gently to meet her probing fingers at every delicious stroke. Clenching her moist, outer lips between her fingers, she pulls herself wide open, still fussing with. Then, slowly sipping myorange juice, I made my announcement."I have decided that I am going to stay Cindy. And probably livethe rest of my life as a woman." Everyone jumped up and grabbedand hugged me. I finally had to pry them off and get them to sitdown. "The psychiatrist I spoke with said I can, if I want, learnto be a boy and eventually a man. He said that most boys who wereforcibly raised as girls, and yes, there are others, have alwayshated it. But I've been okay with who I am. Cindy. Who.