There was cruelty. There was misunderstanding.The world looked at a sissy with unforgiving eyes. We were weak. Wewere feminine. We were different. No ...ne seemed to grasp the lifestyleexcept those of us who were in it.The Camry sped along I-95. I tugged on the skirt of my maid's uniform,and my eyes darted around as we passed other cars. I wondered if thetruckers could tell I was a sissy. I bit my lip, and then I stopped. Ididn't want to chew off my lipstick again. I closed my eyes and triedto. You knew intuitively what you did with Barbara was wrong. What you did with the pedophile was wrong, too. Somehow, you could have found another way to stop him. Use right and wrong as your guide."When he nodded again, she opened the refrigerator and poured milk in a tall glass. "Here," she said, handing him the glass. "Milk goes with cookies."He grinned. "Thanks. Besides possibly donning an outfit with a big S on it, I've been wracking my brains trying to figure out how to use my ability to. More

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