” she paused and looked at me. “Okay?” I wasn't sure of the positioning. The obvious thing to me would be to be on my back with her crouching ab...ove to piss down, but clearly, that wasn't what she had in mind.“I've done some research,” she said.“What, you asked Grace?” I joked, and she slapped my arm in playful rebuke. We, like most people, still thought of Grace as a figure of fun, a stiff, straight-laced person whose woman parts had been given to her in error. I knew I could tell Edna about. You are me," it replied...fading away once again.The rest of the day I had plenty of time to think. I now know that itseems to have an agenda. It also seems to have a personality all of it'sown. And it's an excellent liar. I kept thinking these things, butsecretly I was starting to doubt myself...and maybe think it was right."Stop that!" I screamed in my head."Stop what?" the voice said...seemingly fading back into being."You're the one making me doubt myself!" I accused."Me? I am you," it said. The Detesticulator pointed."I'm sorry," he said, backing up timidly. "Please just ignore that squirt of testosterone. I don't know what came over me."The Detesticulator just smiled."Mother of God!" he cried out in his now high-pitched voice. "That's just MEAN! You're just MEAN PEOPLE!"The Detesticulator moved her index finger, then pointed it at Kid Testosterone again."No! You're just BRUTES! BAD people! Leave me ALONE!" He turned tail and ran back down the stairs then.That left Worry Girl. My years in the Police made me suspicious of her demeanour and the way she spoke. I am a retired cop in my early fifties and previously worked undercover catching prostitutes.She asked me if I fancied some fun and set out the cost of full sex at £20. I replied that I was a happy married man, to that she replied that she would not tell my wife.I managed to start up a general conversation with her asking her why she did this type of work etc and her answers where not that of a hooker. She then.