one I can imagine."

"And you're almost exactly what I don't want for what they're making me do," I told him seriously. "What is it you have to do with me that you hate so? Maybe we could fake it somehow, and fool Mary and Doris."

Butch was silent for a long while before he answered me. Finally he slowed down and parked the car at the curb, and I noticed that we were right behind the dormitory where the girls had been perpetrating their transvestite revenge on me. Butch turned and looked searchingly at my whole body and then said, "I'm meant to rape you if you won't let me have sex with you. I shouldn't be telling you, but there it is."

I studied his big husky masculine form and then I said, "I'm meant to let you. What I don't understand is why getting intimate with me, the way I look, should be so terrible for you?"

Again there was a long pause, with us sitting there worriedly in the parked car. Finally Butch said, "I can't fake it to fool them. They'd know instantly whether I'd done it to you or not. And you girls are all alike. You get all dolled up in a sexy revealing costume, and wave your breasts and fanny at the fellows, and you expect us to come swarming all over you like Gang Busters."

"That's standard operating proceedure, I admitted, "But there's one very good reason why I don't want it to work out that way between you and me."

"Because you're a virgin?" asked Butch. That would turn me off even more. Mary and

Doris found out about me, and that's why they are giving me such a rough time by setting you on me to seduce me. I suppose that you, in the exotic outfits that you've been wearing today, would have most fellows jumping out of their skins to get at you."

"But not you. Frankly, Butch, I'm

very glad I don't turn you on in the seductionrape department," I assured him. "But why don't you go for girls in seductive revealing clothes?"

"I don't go for girls, no matter how they are dressed. Or even if they are undressed. That's what Mary and Doris are holding over me like a club. But I have to obey them now, or they'll tell everyone in the college what they discovered about me. That I go for boys, that

I'm gay, that I'm a queer, a homosexual.

Even as he spoke these alarming words, Butch reached across the car-seat and grabbed With me around the neck with his right hand. his free left hand he thrust roughly up under my short leather skirt, prepared to rip off my underpanties in preparation for the intended rape if he could get his body to perform. "But I'm not a girl. I'm a fellow,"

I yelled at him just as I felt his grasping fingers close around my unprotected male equipment which had been hidden beneath the skirt. "Those girls have been making me go around disguised as a sexy girl. I'm straight, normal, square, hetero, whatever you want to call it. I'm not dressed like this because I like it. I go for real girls who would dress like this."

Butch froze into rigid immobility with one arm holding my upper body and his other hand firmly gripping my exposed maleness.