Afterwards my Mother handed me a pair of very frillypanties, boys don't wear panties, I tried to tell her as i pulled themup my legs. Oh my! these fee... so nice.When she fastened the matching training bra around my chest and Iexperienced my young breasts being encased in the soft fabric, I didn'tprotest. The sensation of the tight band around my chest and the feel ofthe thin lace edged strap on my shoulder was one I would grow to love,well so said my Mother.White socks with rows of frills at the. I know instantly that the cheap oak has never felt the touch of holy water, that the cracked and varnished plastic form of Jesus in His suffering has never had those secret, powerful words muttered over it, that it is a mere decoration and not a talisman with any power against me. I laugh and my laughter tumbles and turns, transforming into my hands, sending the crucifix flying off the wall to skitter like a mere spider across the bare hardwood floor into the corner furthest away from me. Now I. More

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