”Blah. Blah. Fucking Blah. Bitch please.It got to the point where she intentionally forgot faces. Forgot names. There was always someone new, ready ...o invest. So what was the point in even pretending to be attached? Or interested for that matter.Her thoughts trailed as she pushed through the dressing room door. After her first week, she had mastered the art of flipping that little switch in her brain. The one that made it seem like she cared about the drunk men ogling her body. The one that. It's not because of how I dressyou. It's because of what you naturally are. A sissy."I smoothed my dress over my thighs, feeling small and weak and feminine.Tears started in my eyes. It was true. I was a sissy. I would be a totalfailure as a man - I couldn't even be a proper boy! I pictured myselftrying to stand up to one of the boys at school and shuddered. He wouldbeat me to a pulp. He would make me admit I was a sissy girl, and hisgirlfriend would make me put on one of her uniforms,. More

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