He was old, at least forty, though hard living made him look more like fifty. He may have been handsome once, but decades of anger and hatred had twis...ed his face. I’d never heard him utter a word, but I could tell by the scent of him that he was a sick and evil man. I felt no remorse for ending his life.There was something else to his scent, though. A communal bond. I could smell another man associated with him; not someone he touched often, but shared space with often enough. The similarity. Really? Yes I will Abby!Whose Abby?You are it’s your new name Abby is short for Abigail. Oh that’s nice ok.Strip down out of those terrible boy clothes. I got naked and he walked me to a spare bedroom. It was pink , it had s bed and clothes in the closet and drawers . These are your new clothes Abby. Where whatever makes you happy. C’mon get dressed dinner is almost ready. I look around the room. I pulled on some pink cotton panties and a short pink skirt, there were no bras so I put on a white. More

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