The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my heart flew into my throat. I had worn pairs of her panties before, but that was about pleasure, about ...etting off and having something, anything of a woman’s nearby. But I couldn’t wear a skirt. Could I? I wanted to. Why did I want to?My eyes flickered to the corner, where a pile of old clothes had fallen forgotten behind the hanging things. The fuzzy, soft pink sweater was in my hand in a flash and before I knew what I was doing, I was holding it. I can tell that she’s like my sister only she was born that way.As soon as the door shuts the man pulls out a gun. “Who are you looking for?” I put my hands up to show that I mean no harm. “I’m not looking for anyone. My sister and I need a place to stay.” I ease on hand down and lift up a part of my shirt. I show him brand. Now he knows that I’m an escaped slave, to be more specific a “father”. I put my shirt down. “So, what’s your rate?” I ask. He lets out a sigh of relief and puts the gun. More

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