I started to cry. “Please, I’m sorry “ I said “please don’t tell Mom.” He seemed to calm down a bit.” How long has this been going on ? ...�� he asked. “Around 3 or 4 years” I sniffled. Bob shook his head slowly, like he was thinking. “If I don’t tell your mother you were wearing her clothes you will have to be punished by me. Do you understand ? “ he asked. “Yes ,you can punish me , just don’t tell Mom “I begged. Bob sat on the edge of the bed .”Come here” he said . I approached. Stepping into my shoes, the reflectionstaring back at me in the mirror was awful. I looked like an olderwoman desperately trying, and failing, to look younger. My bra wasgiving none of the much needed support my huge heavy breasts needed.My shirt was a low cut one but instead of the huge cleavage a goodsupportive bra would create, my breasts looked a little saggy. My brastrap was also clearly visible through the back of my shirt and thiswas something I really hated. I felt nothing but shame. More

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