“Get your beer order in with Marcus and I’ll bring it,” she nodded. “There won’t be kegs.”Both girls waved to the table and sauntered away...Our combined crews were suitably impressed by that display, and there was chatter that some wanted to come to the party.I thought it was well past time for our class to make our presence known.FRIDAY, JULY 13, 1990Another Friday of the most glorious summer of my short life so far. I’d managed to sneak in to see Melody earlier in the week already and this day. Charlie just stood there and dug his heels in. "Slap me again and Iwill call the police. They may not believe me the first time, or thesecond time, but I bet on the third, fourth or fifth time they start tocome around. So go ahead, hit me. Oh, and another thing. I am not aqueer; I am not a faggot or a fairy. I am who I am dammit, so youbetter start dealing with it; whether I am wearing a dress or Levi'sjeans. You can learn to accept me for who I am, or grow old and die abitter old man. . After almost an hour the conversation stopped and Daddy ordered the boito stop, making him stand at attention too. Then the gallery owneraddressed the boi: "You really are a worthless bitch boi. Worthless, butsexy". The boi blushed even more but displayed no other reaction. "Iusually tell all of your Master's slaves this little story and whyshould you go without?" the gallery owner asked rhetorically. The manthen called his secretary over and told her to strip. In no time shestood in her black. I looked at my arms andsaw that they were completely void of hair. My clothes felt so baggy onme. I started to pick myself up as I was covered in a curtain of pinkhair. How long had it grown?I looked in the mirror. The first thing to strike me was the hair. Solong and so thick. It fell down below my bum, but was so thick and wavyat the same time with a sweeping fringe going acrosse my forehead. Girlswould kill to have hair like this. I had definitely shrunk. I felt like Ihad lost at least a.