..The other guy came over just as the song was ending. He was harder, harsher, not as polite as the other guy. "So, you wanna dance?" he asked. I coul... be an idiot, or I could get up to dance; I got up. The song ended, but he just held my wrist. "Don't worry about it -- I fed the box." I wasn't going anywhere -- he was holding my wrist and wasn't planning on letting go. We didn't talk about it, either; he didn't threaten me or anything -- it was just out there, clear. "What's your name, Honey?". " she said, as though I hadn't spoken. "What aboutthe third category? I assume that's the really permanent stuff?" That's right - hormones, obviously; breast implants; tightening of thevocal chords to raise his voice; liposuction and then injection of thefat removed from his tummy into his thighs and buttocks; and so on. Someof our 'girls' even have ribs removed to narrow their waists. We canarrange pretty much everything short of full SRS - our clinic needspsychiatric consultation to go. More

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