 She'd changed. She wore large, owlish glasses that seemed to have very little magnification. Her long, straight, dark hair was now pulled up into a severe first bun on the back of her boyfirsttimegay head. She didn boy't seem to wear makeup, though that didn't do much to distract from her clear complexion. But it was her clothes gay that really made the difference. Baggy sweatshirts over loose-fitting jeans boy and suede boots seemed to be the boyfirsttimegay only thing she pics would wear to boy that seminar boyfirsttimegay. Week after week, the outfit would change boyfirsttimegay in specifics, but always remain the same in effect. I got the impression she was gay hiding first her boy figure first, which, as I remembered, was boy really very nice boyfirsttimegay.
 When I saw her that day, I froze. Gone were boyfirsttimegay the sweatshirt and baggy jeans. A crisp, white blouse boy, tucked into a pleated boyfirsttimegay skirt, was unbuttoned enough at the top to reveal some ample cleavage provided by an under-wire pics bra gay. Her long boy hair hung behind her in a ponytail. On boyfirsttimegay second glance, I boy came to believe that first the small amount of makeup she wore was intended to hide a sort of permanent blush that gave her a glowing aura. She looked fashionable boyfirsttimegay, sharp and innocent. And provocative. I couldn't take my eyes off of her.
 Brenda paused just inside the boy door and turned back to me uncertainly boy. "Fred," she said to me, "this is The Great boy Menlo." She raised a hand slightly, indicating her companion. The guy was dressed in grey slacks, a gay double-breasted blue blazer, and first a white turtleneck shirt. He must have used half a can of mousse; not a hair was out of place. His broad smile showed a boy mouth full of straight pics, white, perfect teeth.
 "Greg Menlo boy, Freddy. I'm really pleased to boyfirsttimegay meet you gay. I've heard a lot about you."
 "Mind if we come in a minute, Freddy?" he continued smoothly. "I'm a magician and hypnotist, appearing at boy the Student Union Theater this week. Maybe you've heard about it?" He looked at me questioningly and the smile faded for boy a moment. "Guess not boy. Well, I boyfirsttimegay'd like to show you something." He stepped over to Brenda, put a hand lightly on her back and led her boy through the foyer into my living room boy.
 I felt disoriented and first not a little pissed off. Who did this Bozo think he was, coming gay into my house boy with my girl and making himself at home? But then, she wasn boy't my gay girl, was she? Quietly, I closed the door and followed them.
 He seemed to be waiting for me. I felt as if I'd had an advantage and watched it slip gay away boyfirsttimegay. Begrudgingly, I sat on the boyfirsttimegay arm of the pics chair. Seemingly satisfied, he turned to Brenda, who was still glancing guiltily around her boy. She reminded me of a child I'd once seen in the first toy section of a department first store whose parents had boyfirsttimegay finally found boyfirsttimegay her and boy were scolding her for having wandered off. I got the feeling that she liked being here, but knew she shouldn't be.
 "Shhh," he scolded lightly. "Just look into my eyes and relax. That's right boy. Just relax. You boyfirsttimegay know what's going boy to happen, don't you? Just let it happen. That's gay right. Relax."
 He had a lot more boyfirsttimegay to say boy, but for once I simply wasn't paying attention boy. A feeling I had never experienced before was starting to form gay deep inside me boy. Rage. I very quickly came to the decision that the girl before me meant a great boyfirsttimegay deal to me boyfirsttimegay, and boy that something boyfirsttimegay profound was happening to her boy that I boyfirsttimegay should protect her from. Still, I sat rooted to the spot, watching dumbly as Brenda boy's arms fell loosely to her sides and she swayed slightly as he continued to pull her into some sort boy of boy hypnotic trance. I'd never seen this boyfirsttimegay done before, though I'd read boy about first it, of course. She was totally, completely enthralled boy. She seemed to want this boy, to need boy it. His words were calm commands that she accepted and then responded to immediately. I remember him using gay the word "obey," and my anger leapt to new heights. He told her to first sleep, and her eyes slammed shut. Then she swayed for a moment, and leaned heavily against him, her cheek against his chest. He held her lightly in boyfirsttimegay his arms.
 He continued to ignore me completely as he talked boyfirsttimegay to boy her, giving her instructions that I didn't boy seem to want to hear. All I cared about was my mounting anger. I boy waited patiently for him to finish. I had never contemplated killing a man before.
 "Are boyfirsttimegay you okay?" I asked softly.
 She first seemed to consider this for a boy moment. "Good ."
 We sat, saying nothing, for a long sixty seconds pics. I wanted to tell her that I'd listen to her, try to understand her, protect her, but I couldn't think of a way to boyfirsttimegay begin. Finally boyfirsttimegay, the ticking of boy the mantle clock drove her to speak.
 "Fred, I want to tell you what happened to me today. I want you to understand about ... him boy; what boyfirsttimegay he did to me. I NEED to tell you." Her voice boy fell to a whisper. "Please?"
 This seemed to confuse her. "Um ...."
 "Um , sure."
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