..someday you will be able to understand and forgive me."The shock that had been holding me down was burned away by white hot rage."Forgive? FORGIVE?!...What's there to forgive?" I jumped up, knocking mychair over backwards. "You just dressed me up like some damn sissy andthen handed me over to some 'school' that's gonna turn me into -- how thehell should I know?"The sharp crack of Madam Martinique's riding crop smacking the top of herdesk made me jump. "I will NOT tolerate such language!". “You want some coffee?”“Please,” I said and she filled two mugs. She gave one to me and sat back in the chair in front of her desk. Sipping the hot coffee she said, “go and take a seat somewhere.”I took a chair and seated myself. I did feel a bit weird, sitting naked in a chair with an erection and a mug of coffee in my hands. My mother didn’t seem at all unsettled by this. “Listen, Peter,” she said, “you’re at an age now that you’re old enough for these kinds of things and I don’t want to make. More

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