It was the realization that Ididn't mind being one. Shouldn't the loss, however temporary, of mymasculinity been horrifying? But it wasn't. Instead, i... was like being aboy was a burden that had been weighing me down, only I didn't realizeit until that weight was lifted. What was I supposed to do with thatfeeling? I couldn't process it. Even my failure to save Deb paled incomparison.Once we were back, they wanted to take me to the compound and have mechecked out, but I desperately wanted to get. “Mrs. Big Shot” wasn’t what I expected. I thought she would be a young trophy wife, blond, beautiful and full of cheap class. Instead, sitting on a chair with her knees firmly locked, was an early forty-something demure woman, hiding her beauty behind a long suffering housewife image dressed in a drab grey dress. The shock in her eyes when she saw me standing naked in front of her, brought me down a notch or two from the ecstasy of the men’s adulation. She quickly averted her eyes to find. More

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