I did something called therapy. I got a, well, what they called a prosthesis. I came home crying and hurting. Cindy took me to her bed and loved me. I... was bittersweet. Her tender touches and the lingering, sometimes phantom pain were a strange combination. She grounded me and without her I would have been floating. Cindy wanted to go to school. I had money from the army. I bought a ten-year-old truck. I taught her to drive – I had learned in the army. They gave her a test and said she could go. She was still operating on instinct, hunch really, as she looked the shy girl in the eye and ordered in a firm voice "Spread your legs" The moment the girl did so, she pushed her hand up to caress the shy girl's slit. Magan could not help buy to stair at her new friend, and open her legs, just a little, obeying the command by reflex. Her parents had taught her not to resist the advances of boys who might want to use her. They had said nothing about if girls wanted to do anything with her. So. More

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