Whatever happened to the lovely, lithe young ladies that used to populate the nursing corps? Once again, I drifted off.I completely lost sense of time...and place when I next awoke. I was no longer surprised to find myself in a hospital room, hooked up to various probes, tubes and other paraphernalia. I lay there for a while, now fully awake, wondering just what might have happened to me and when I would find out. A little judicious exploration revealed I had what I would learn later to be a. The boys now stood each side of their Dad, both looking at me with disgust.Their dad lectured me on my behavior. He then said it was only fair that having seen his son's penis, that I should have to show what I had in return.I was in a state of shock, did I hear right!!he told me to take off my swimsuit, I started to hesitate, but their dad was gettng angrier and he shouted at me. I started to sob as I did as I was told.I pulled my straps down off my shoulders and pulled my top down, both. Thrre would be a trigger. Maybe I would havecheated. Maybe I would have embezzled. Maybe I would have been anoverbearing sap in need of comeuppance.She would have me at a disadvantage, of course. She would threaten toexpose me, or divorce me, or punish me. If this was fiction, there mightbe a wizard, or a magic ring, or a special pill invented for the purposeof story-telling. An evil scientist, perhaps. If this were make-believe,then there would be a Mistress, and I would be a sissy. If you. What they call Little Italy, of course. When he came to this country, he had nothing, but he took work as a busboy and then a waiter. Eventually, he made enough money to buy his own place. He named it Ristorante San Felice because he liked the saints, and he especially liked San Felice. 'Felice' means happy in Italiano, you know." Yes," I said."Angelo was a happy man. He wanted to make other people happy, too, and he was a good enough cook to do that. He made a lot of money in the restaurant.