RANSVESTIA

He didn't answer, but the thought had entered his mind numbers of times in the last two hours.

"Answer me Martin. Haven't you been considering that?"

"Yes I have." he confessed. "Hell . . . I am no good to anybody." He thought of the speech he had chosen and said: "I'm sorry... It slipped."

She started up the car and pulled out of the place, driving at mod- erate speed. "Where are you taking me?" he asked. Maybe she had de- cided to turn him over to the police as a possible suicide.

"To my place until I can think this out. I can't have you killing your- self. If I turned you loose you would do it. I'd feel responsible and I would never get over it."

"I don't care any more. I have tried my best to quit gambling but it is in my blood I guess. What have I got to live for anyway?”

"Stop talking like that," she demanded. "I want to think." She was on a major highway now, headed for her beautiful home in Kenner. Without arriving at a solution, she pulled up in the secluded drive of her home and parked under a two car garage.

They walked inside and he sat-down at the kitchen table while she fixed a cup of coffee for both of them. He wasn't hungry, he informed her when she asked, but she fixed eggs and bacon for both of them any- way. When she sat across from him to eat, she spoke for the first time in minutes." I want you to open up and tell me about your tying your- self up. What do you do with yourself? Why do you do it?”

He turned a deep shade of red as he thought of himself in women's clothing. He couldn't tell her about that. What could he say?” Uh . . . Please Miss Corday, it's embarrassing. I'd rather not say. It's awful.”

She looked directly into his eyes: “Do you tie yourself up nude?” He didn't need to answer, his eyes said 'no.' "In your clothes?" Again he gave away a no answer as he almost nodded negatively. "In women's clothes," she almost shouted. "That's it. . . you punish yourself by dressing up in the clothing of women." He looked away but she saw the guilty look.

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