My gun thudded heavily as it fell into the room and onto the carpeted floor. The glove was black leather. Odd how that came through but I couldn't see... to see the person. With a second crack of my head against the wall, I fell hard to the floor, stunned, as my attacker rushed out. I struggled to my feet and stumbled toward my fallen weapon and then out the door. I felt something trickle down my face. I wiped it away - blood. The bastard had made me bleed. I hated bleeding.The hall was empty. As she drove, I thought about my future. I thought about how good mygrades were. It seemed to me that maybe I could go to a Nursing school. Ipictured myself walking through the corridors of a hospital in an oldfashioned nurses uniform and heels. The thought made me both happy andsort of melancholy. I knew I would have no options outside of some sort oftraditionally feminine role, and I knew I would be the one to convince mymom to let me become whichever symbol of sissyhood I was lead towards.. More

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