Oh yeah, did I mention she currently has a boyfriend? Probably not till just now. Yeah, his name is James, he’s a douche bag to the 99th level. Got ...her shooting H again, and has royally fucked her head up. But they’re off and on again. This time I hope it’s off… Permanently. So here I am holding her, telling her that these feelings will pass, that the grief and anger she feels isn’t always going to be there. This is, of course, supposed to be her boyfriend’s job right? But here I am. I’m doing. By the time I was twenty-one, I had a job. I punched numbers all day as a certified public accountant. I did my work well. I was caring, painstakingly accurate, and dedicated. I made money. I lived frugally. After five years of hormones and blockers, I had several plastic surgeries that brought my body in line with my mind. Now when I looked in the mirror, I saw a reflection of my mind's eye. I saw a beautiful woman. My lightened hair, my high cheekbones, my pouty lips, my long smooth neck, and. ‘Oh what fun we are going to have with you’ she said in a tone that would make you think she had just one the lottery. She ordered me to kneel down, as she pulled out a pair of handcuffs and what looked like a black penis gag. She quickly secured my hand behind my back and shoved me into my 11ft oak table. She told me not to turn around but I soon heard the sound of clothes hitting the floor. The next thing I knew the penis gag was being forced into my mouth the second it touched my tongue I. The three of them served up plates and took over a table in the corner and sat eating. They had not been there long when they were joined by another man. He was dressed in jeans and a denim work shirt. He spoke to Spike and called him by name."Spike, I thought you got out of this racing business years ago? What ever induced you to come back?" the stranger asked."What are you doing here Phil? I know you're not racing still," Spike asked, ignoring the questions."I'm now a color commentator for.