Then he spoke, in a tone not quite male not quite female, but lowenough to make some difference, "Hi there you might know as OperativeChangeling M, bu... I used to be called Mike-I have no life of my ownnow, so must live my life through masks," in a flat manner of speaking.Morton finally understood who he was dealing with, and slumped inbefore finally getting up. "Alright I'm heading to bed," He uttered ina resigned tone. He would need some time to process this I'm sure, Mikethought, though Mike. Would he? I found myself glancing at his jeans as we walked.I realized I'd walked through my front door, with Tommy still right behind me. "Can I have my picture back, Becky?" Guiltily, I looked up from the picture I'd been staring at and forced myself to look at his face instead of his crotch. "'Ms. Thatcher,' Tommy." Was there a bulge there? He grinned. "You want to see it, don't you, Becky?" I tried to moisten my lips with a tongue suddenly gone dry.Casually he unfastened his belt and slowly. More

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