Chris nevertook part in these sessions, but she was always there, outside, waiting,worrying and probably crying herself, if I know Chris.My fears were...peeled away in layers, just like peeling an onion, andeach layer got more emotional than the last. The core of the problem wasthat I felt that I had let Peter down, but resting on that was thefeeling that I had let down Chris, the group, transgendered people,people in need and finally myself. The burden I was carrying, no, makethat the self. “Shut up, bitch” He said close to my ear, “Your stupid husband said I could do whatever I wanted with you. Take your slutty panties off. And don't turn over; I want you to look out the window.”I hesitated for a few seconds, but then he swept my skirt to one side and grabbed my thong between his fingers, ragging it and taking down the pieces to my knees.I heard the man unzipping his pants.“Nice piece of ass, Ana, your husband is a lucky bastard” he whispered. I swallowed some angry words, but. More

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