"It was a similar style to her own; fitted and knee length, but mine wasthe same wine red of the shirt I had been wearing and cut lower over thechest ...o bare the swell of my breasts and enticing line of my cleavage.My arms were bare, my legs sensual in sheer, black hosiery. My rathersmart evening shoes had been transformed into black satin and lace courtshoes, with what felt like a platform sole and towering stiletto heels.Through their open toe my big toenails shone hot pink through the. ’ He looked up at me with tears shining in his eyes. ‘I’m not like other boys,’ he said, as the tears spilled over his cheeks. I looked at him lovingly. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Why not, Grandma?’ There was an ache in his voice. I chose my words slowly and carefully. ‘Because you’re special, Paul. You have come into this world with a special Gift which is yours to share with other boys and men.’ ‘They don’t want my Gift, Grandma. They don’t want it at all . . . ‘They spit on my Gift, Grandma. They. More

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