‘And,’ Lucretia said while standing in the office door before leaving, ‘…for that social life we talked about, you might wanta consider comin�...� up ta Nashville. Maybe we could meet. See ya nex’ Friday,’ she winked. The silhouette of her body from the side made my genitals pulse repeatedly as she smiled suggestively and the door closed. She’s the spitting image of Halle Berry! I thought, as I returned to my office. I slept late the next morning, since it was Saturday. At 8 a.m. I walked out to. She said I display all of thesigns of a classic case of a secondary transsexual. I was a womantrapped in a man's body just waiting to be let out. She told me thatI would definitely be much happier if I accepted myself as a woman. Isat and listened as she told me how she has studied and worked withhundreds of transsexuals. She had become very proficient at diagnosisand treatment of transgender identity. She was very sure in what shehas witnessed and found in our conversations."What I saw. More

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