She grabbed my hand and lifted it up to handcuff my arm against the wall, on shoulder level. She did the same with my other arm. Suddenly someone kick...d against my foot. It was the masked guy, he told me to spread my legs, as I did. I felt my ankles handcuffed too against the wall, my legs spread open. I felt a little afraid to what was going to come. A hand caressed my face, moving down, slowly touching my breasts, moving more down, over my tummy, and to my surprise even more down as the hand. I mean, you do it every year. Every year. Like a badhabit. If you die on Halloween, they'll bury you in a dress like thetransvestite you are." I'm not a transvestite," I said."It's all labels," she said. "What does it matter what people call it?"She paused. She looked at me for a long moment."But you are," she said, grinning.I stood and walked into the kitchen. I was not a transvestite, I toldmyself. I had dressed up four years ago because we were students with nomoney, and she had an old. More

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