Now I stand up, and Fr.Joe and I hug one another tightly, our hot tongues dueling it out in eachothers' hot mouths. My hand rubs the solid bulge behin... the fly of Fr. Joe'sclerical trousers, as he rubs and squeezes my sore asscheeks. Now, Fr. Joe unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly, and his blackpants fall to the floor. He pulls down his white briefs and then bends overhis desk. Fr. Joe's ass is far, far removed from bubblebutt status; only theslightest curve keeps it from bieng. Squeezing her tits mercilessly with his powerful roughly massaging them. Kristen was terrified. He was rough, hurting her, and she knew he did so it on purpose. He grabbed the top of her blouse and pulled sharply, tearing all the buttons off and exposing her black lace bra.“Somebody help me! Please!” She screamed out the words, “Please, someone ... Make him stop!” Kristen only heard laughter in response.“Get her to the pool table,” she heard someone yell, as two, more men grabbed her arms. I of course said, 'yes that's what I always wanted.'He then promised that they would give me all their support if that was what I wanted to go through and he explained about how he had planned together with my therapist how the transition would happen. He told me what he expected out of me. Also he said that everything would be OK but I would become the female I desired to be but only by following the plans that had been agreed. It all sounded unreal to me at that moment and I don't think I. But the fifth visit became Sara's Waterloo. Old Mike confronted her about the $60.00 she had stolen - he knew each and every one - and stright faced denials were all Sara offered him.Then Mike suggested, "Let's go to the videotape!"Totally busted, Sara hung her head in resignation, waiting for the other shoe to drop.But what she got was an old man saying, "If you need money for Halloween (obvious derision of her goth look), I suppose I can pay you $100.00 right now - if you think you can handle.