A Good Night’s Sleep For A Change

A Good Night’s Sleep For A Change
by Don Martin
A Good Night’s Sleep For A Change by Don Martin
It had been a hectic week in the office, a bomb scare on Monday (fortunately that was a false alarm), frantic efforts to stop losing a big contract on Tuesday (we still lost it), monthly reports to be in on Wednesday, off on a quick trip to the northern office on Thursday and meetings most of Friday.  I was hoping to get away early as, being the third Friday in the month, was the night of the monthly Bondage Party at ‘The Abbey’ in town.  But just as I was about to leave, Greg who works in the next office, stuck his head round the partition and asked me to give him a hand moving his desk and some filing cabinets.  “I need your muscles Les – this damned desk weighs a ton.”  I think we moved every piece of furniture in his office at least twice before he finally reckoned he’d got the ideal layout. 

“I must be going now Greg, I’m off out tonight.” I said before he had chance to change his mind again.   With that I beat a hasty exit.  But the trip home was slow, the traffic was worse than usual - there had been an accident as well and that didn’t help.  Home at last - I made a cup of coffee, grabbed something to eat and then relaxed in the shower - cascades of warm water had never felt so good.  I glanced at my watch - it was already well past 8 and I still had to drive all the way back into the City.  When I finally arrived in town I left my car in the all-night parking station and walked the couple of city blocks to the party.  This was held at ‘The Abbey’ - which was aptly named for originally it was a church which then went through a number of resurrections before Mistress Felicia got hold of it and turned it into one of the city’s foremost B&D establishments.

All the usual crowd were there plus a few new faces and proceedings were already in full swing.  I spent the first couple of hours just chatting and looking on as various scenes were played out.  It must have been sometime after 11 when Mistress Dana called over, “Leslie, you’ve been quiet tonight, it’s about time we played.  Come over here and let me try out a new tie on you.”

I knew from past experience that any tie by Mistress Dana was going to be both strict and probably exhausting, so I declined her offer, “Not tonight, try it on someone else as I’ve had a hectic week and I’m dead tired.”

Not to be put off, her immediate reply was, “OK, if that’s the case, what you need is a good night’s sleep.”

“Too true,” I shouted over the hubbub in the room.

“Come into the other room, I’ve got just the thing for you - a new sleep sack that only came yesterday. You can be the first to try it for size.  I promise that I’ll make you comfortable!”

This last bit I just did not believe.

Jumping on a bondage chair Mistress Dana waved her arms about the gain everyone’s attention and then announced, “Listen everybody.  Quiet.  Leslie here has had a busy week and he says he needs a good rest so he’s agreed to let me demonstrate our new sleep sack on him.  Come on folks, follow me into the Green Room.”

She jumped off the chair and, grabbing my arm, said, “Come on, you’re not getting out of this - at least not until I let you out.”

Quite a crowd gathered in the Green Room - that is just about everyone who wasn’t tied up with some other matter.  After I’d stripped off she got me to lie of the bondage table - although its leather covering was cold, at least it was well padded.

‘Roll over,” she ordered.  It was then that I felt my underpants being pulled down and a well-lubricated butt plug being pushed into me.  Further and further it went; I gasped as it was forced in – but finally my sphincter muscles closed on its narrow neck.

“You won’t need them,” she announced as she removed my pants and tossed them to the crowd.  “This is more suitable, it will hold that plug in and stop you playing with yourself.  Come on, stand up.”  With that she strapped a leather chastity on me, pushing my cock and balls through a hole in the front before buckling the belt tight around my waist.  Then she pulled the crotch strap between my legs and buckled it to the waist belt.  She pushed my cock against my stomach and strapped it down before closing a leather flap over both my cock and balls.  Trapped inside the pouch there was no way that I was going to get a hard on, nor was I going to be able to pleasure myself through the stiff leather.

“Hands off,” she ordered as I investigated my trapped organs.  “We’d better keep your prying hands out of the way.  Come here, put them behind your back.” 
I heard the click-click as a pair of handcuffs went on my wrists.

I protested that I was only trying to make sure that everything was OK down there, but she cut me short. “And enough of your chatter too!  I’d better gag you now.”

She picked up an enormous penis gag from the bench.  “Open wide.”

It filled my mouth but the two holes through the middle meant that I would not be relying solely on breathing through my nose - that was a relief.  She checked to make sure that the gag was secure before collecting a latex hood and some earplugs.  It was not long before she was lacing up the back of the hood - as tight, of course, as she laced everything.  The tightness of the hood under my chin made sure that I was never going to work the gag out with my tongue, no matter how much I tried.  At least I could see what was going on through the two eyeholes.

“Now for the sack.” 

She got me to lay face down on the table and put my legs together.  Then she worked the heavy latex of the sack up my legs to the top of my thighs.

“Come on, let’s have your arms.”

She removed the cuffs from first my left wrist and then my right and slipped my arms into sleeves inside the sack as she worked it further up my body.  With a final tug I was encased in heavy latex up to my neck.  She made sure that the neck of the hood was tucked inside the top of the sack.

“Now, be a good boy and keep still while I lace you up.”

Starting at the ankles she tightened the laces one by one until she reached my neck where she tied them off - then she did it all over again …and again…and again.  Just when I thought that she could get them no tighter she repeated the whole exercise.

By this time I was lying flat on my face on the table hardly able to move a muscle.  Any possible movement quickly proved to be right out of the question as she tightened leather straps first round my ankles, then below my knees, above my knees, my thighs, my forearms and waist and finally my upper arms and chest.  Then came the posture collar round my neck that stopped any movement of my head.

She turned to her audience and through the earplugs I could just about make out her saying,  “Now at all times when you put your sub into bondage you must make sure of their safety.  So we’d better make sure that he doesn’t roll off the table and do himself an injury.’ 

That was the cue for her to roll me over on my back and apply more straps - this time through the D-rings at the sides of the sack and the top of the hood to the rings on the edges of the table. 

I could hear her talking to her audience again but could not hear what she told them.  However, a couple of minutes later she came over to where I was lying and bending down with her head close to mine said in a very loud voice, “Now have that good rest you wanted.  I’ll be back in a couple of hours to release you - that’s if you want me too.”

She disappeared from view only to return a few moments later to buckle a padded blindfold to the hood.  Now I was cut off from the world.  But she was not finished yet for the butt plug started wriggling, squirming and vibrating like mad - it evidently had a remote control and she had flicked the switch.  I was soon to find it also had a random timer that switched on and off when I was least expecting it.

Isolated in my own world, unable to move any part of me, and fighting against that cursed butt plug, I soon lost all track of time.  Had I been like this for 10 minutes or was it an hour - but time was probably going slower than I reckoned.  Unable to flex my muscles and lying flat on my back meant my body was soon aching all over.  My jaw ached, but a bigger problem was that I had to keep swallowing the drool that didn’t run down the side of my face.  Time dragged on. What were the other folk doing?  Surely Mistress Dana would come back and release me soon!

Everything around me seemed silent and still.  Had all the others gone home and left me here?  If so it must be after sunrise as the parties never break up until then.
The batteries in the butt plug had finally run down – if they had carried on much longer my ass would have turned to jelly.

At long, long last, exhausted, I fell asleep.

I don’t know how long I slept but I woke with a start when I felt someone touching me.  God, I wanted to visit the bathroom - someone had to release me soon before disaster struck.  And somehow I felt different.  Don’t ask me how, but I felt different.

Then I felt straps holding me down on the table being undone. 

“Wakey, wakey, you’ve had a nice long sleep.  You can’t still be tired.”  It was Mistress Dana’s voice.

Next I felt the blindfold being removed. 

I blinked at the bright lights.   Even thought I still had the plugs in my ears I heard Mistress Dana gasp and, putting her hand to her mouth, cried, “Oh my Gawd - it’s not Les!” 

She beckoned to the Sub Lee Ann who was starting undo the straps round my body.  “Lee Ann, come here - he’s changed, it’s not Les!”

“What do you mean, it’s not Les?” Lee Ann asked.  Then she too gasped, “Oh shit, what’s happened.  I saw you put him in this sack last night - where’s he gone?”

Seeing their anguish and only just about being able to make out what they were saying, I tried to ask what was wrong.  However with the fat plug still filling my mouth all I could manage were a few grunts.

By now Mistress Dana and Lee Ann had removed the collar and were frantically undoing the lacing down the back of the sack.  At last, with some effort, I could move my stiff limbs.  I still didn’t catch on to what all their panic was about.  Then the hood was unlaced.  With that out of the way and the gag removed, I could talk again.  But before I could utter a word I looked down at my body in horror.    Where were my trim abbs, my hairy arms and muscular legs?  Now there was smooth, pale skin, and - no, I can’t believe it - BOOBS!!!

Almost automatically my hands came up to my chest.  Two heavy breasts filled my palms.  And my fingernails were bright pink!!  Then there was the chastity belt and I could feel the presence of two plugs inside me.

“Wha…Wha…What has happened to me?” I cried.

Both Mistress Dana and Lee Ann looked equally as stunned.  “God knows.  How did you change positions with Les?  And where has he gone?”

“B… B… But I am Leslie Thomas - when you put me in that sack last night I was a 28 year-old male.  Now look at me!  I’ve turned into a woman.”

“Rubbish!  You can’t have done!” Mistress Dana replied still with completely disbelieving look on her face.  “You’re not Les.  Who are you and how did you get here?”

I gulped.  I stood up, now more that ever aware of the two plugs in me.  I unbuckled the chastity belt and eased out first the dildo and then the butt plug.  There was a wet, hairy vagina where my cock and balls used to be.  Even with the two plugs out, the two apertures in my body felt as though they were still stretched by their presence.   As I moved I was also more aware of the weight and bounce of my newly acquired tits.  I felt my backside - my ass seemed huge.  My mind was in turmoil.  Was this all just a horrible dream?  Had I really turned into a female - and from first impressions, into a big, healthy girl? 

At that moment the owner of the establishment, Mistress Felicia a.k.a Liz O’Hanlon, appeared at the door - evidently she was Thomastairs, had heard all the noise and was wondering what the fuss was about.  She tried to quieten everyone down and find out what had happened. 

“If you all don’t speak at the same time I might be able to find out what’s going on.” She shouted over the din.  “Now, what’s the trouble?” 

Mistress Dana told her that she had put Leslie Thomas in the sleep sack just before midnight last night and when she came to release him just now he’d gone and this woman was inside the sack. 

“She must have swapped placed with him when you weren’t looking,” was Liz’s logical response.

By now Dana was looking more puzzled than ever.  “But I was around here all night and I’d certainly have noticed if anyone released him and put someone else inside the sack.  He’s not bloody Houdini!” 

“But what about in the last hour or so when most folk were leaving?  It could have happened then.” 

“It would have taken the best part of an hour to make the swap and, even if I’d missed it, someone would have noticed,” replied Dana.

Lee Ann chimed in, “I was on the door for most of the evening and I’m sure that this woman never came in - so he must have changed sex during the night.”

“Crap” snapped Liz in an increasingly stern voice. “Don’t be ridiculous - it just can’t happen, you can’t change sex like that!”  She just didn’t believe the girls story.  Then she turned to me and snapped, “Now, come on, tell me what really happened.”

“I’m damned sure I was a man when I came here last night.” I stammered.  “Look at me now - a bird!”

“Where are her clothes?”  She asked.

Lee Ann looked in the cupboards and on the bench top.  “There’s nothing here,” she announced with a shrug of her shoulders.  “Oh, just a moment.  What’s this?”  In a heap in the corner of the room she had found a pile of men’s clothes - slacks, a grey shirt, socks, shoes and a denim jacket.

“Yes, that’s what I was wearing when I came here last night.” 

I felt in the pocket of the jacket - there was my wallet. Inside were a couple of credit cards and a driving licence in the name of Leslie Thomas.  “See, that’s me.” I said, pointing at the name on one of the cards.

“Well, it looks like Leslie was a TV and put on your clothes a went home.  So you’d better put on his and toddle off home too,” suggested Liz - obviously hoping that this strange creature would soon depart and everything could get back to normal.

The slacks would have fitted me last night but now too long in the leg and probably wouldn’t get over my hips and the shirt wouldn’t do up over my new found tits.
I slumped down on a nearby chair and again picked up my credit cards and stared at them.  By this time I was in tears - that’s not like the Leslie Thomas I knew who hadn’t cried in frustration since he was a kid. 

Liz came over and put her arm round my shoulder.  Her voice now became quite motherly and soothing - very different from her voice and manner a few seconds before when she was still very much her Mistress Felicia persona.    Now she too was confused.  She wiped the tears from my eyes with her hankie.  “Come now, let’s get you a shower and get you tidied up and get some clothes on you - you’ll feel a lot better then.”   Turning to Dana she added, “You go and put on a cup of coffee Dana, we’ll be along in a few minutes.”

She held my hand, “Come on Leslie, if that’s who you are, let’s get that shower.”  She was still sure I’d swapped places with Leslie sometime during the night.
With a stream of confused thoughts still cascading through my brain I followed her to the bathroom.  She turned on the shower and then fetched some clean towels. 

I looked at myself in the mirror.  Staring back at me was a strapping young woman about 5ft 8, well built - probably a little over 150 pounds - with solid legs and thighs, but not carrying much fat.  She had shoulder-length dark brown hair, the same colour as mine - well, dammit, it was mine!   I looked like a female, I was acting like a female, I felt like a female, I walked like a female, my voice sounded like that of a female and I smelled like a female but my mind was telling me that I was a male.  What is more I was a chauvinistic male who liked football, tinkering with cars and who had a great group of male drinking mates.

As I was towelling myself dry, Dana came back into the bathroom.  “Here, put this on while we see if we can rustle up some clothes for you to wear.”   She handed me a towelling wrap and I followed her into the small kitchen - which seemed even smaller with three girls in it.  A hot cup of coffee never tasted so good.
All this time my mind was still in turmoil.  Mentally and physically I was completely drained.  I was trying to work out what to do next but I was unable to think logically.   What about work, my other friends, my driving licence, my birth certificate and my other papers - and my brother Tom who now lived in Spain?   If I had turned into a female, how was I going to cope with all the female things?    I burst into tears and just collapsed into the chair.  All the girls were now very concerned about me and even discussed whether they should phone for an ambulance to get me taken to someplace where I could get some therapy.    But finally they decided that they should get me some female clothes and get me home.  Hopefully when I got there I would be able to sort myself out.

“OK, now let us find some clothes for you,” said Dana as she eyed me up and down.  “The only one here anywhere near your size is Helga and she’s overseas at the moment - the Dom gear that she’s left here you’d never wear in the street…. but we’ll dig up something.”

Dana suggested that perhaps she should put me back in the sleep sack and hope I would change back into who I was before so I could wear the clothes I came in last night.  Lee Ann thought it a waste of time trying as that sort of thing now as it only happens at midnight like it did to Cinderella.   Something inside me told me that just wouldn’t happen twice - well, until a little while ago, I didn’t think that it could happen once. 

“Take Leslie up to the cross-dressing room and see what you can find the right size up there.” said Liz who by this time was getting a little tired of the chit-chat - after all the party had gone on until after first light and no one there except me had been to sleep. 

I followed Dana and Lee Ann upstairs.  Most of the clothes in their cross-dressing collection were rather trashy and the girls decided that something a little more conservative was called for.  Lee Ann did suggest that if they could find nothing else, the maid’s uniform that she was holding would have to do - at least it was the right size!  There was much rummaging through drawers and in wardrobes, then, for a start, Dana came up with black panties and a bra.

“Get these on first.”  She handed me the panties.

I was used to men’s pants that came up to the waist.  Now I found that my new waist was a lot higher and the panties sat comfortably on my hips.  Also I was surprised to find that the pot of my stomach now sat below my waistline whereas before, as a man, it was above it.  Next she passed me a bra.  “I guess you’re a 40C, so put it on and let’s see if it fits.”   I fumbled with the straps and the hooks at the back.

“Come here, let me do that.”  I was very glad of Lee Ann’s help.

By this time Dana was rummaging through one of the drawers.  “All we seem to have are countless pairs of stockings and assorted garter belts.”  Then with almost a shout of triumph she stooped her search and announced, “Ah, a pair of pantyhose without a hole or ladders – about the only ones here so it’s these or nothing.”
Dana helped me roll them up my legs and smooth them over my hips.

“Now for a skirt.  It looks like it’s this brown number - that’s unless you fancy this latex hobble skirt or the maid’s uniform!”

The brown skirt was knee-length and hugged my thighs.  Dana helped me wriggle into it and then pulled the zipper up at the back. 

“That’s what I call a perfect fit!”  It was evident that she was pleased with her choice.

“Now shoes are going to be a bit of a problem.”  Dana added.  “All the shoes we’ve got here that are anywhere near your size have got heels at least 4 inches high - and some a lot higher.  I think you’d have some difficulty walking far in them.”  She paused while she thought where she could find more sensible shoes. 

“I know - Big Helga’s new boots, the heels on them are only about 3 inches high.”  She disappeared for a while before returning back holding a pair of black knee-high boots with a zipper up the inside of the leg.   She was right, they only had 3-inch heels – but I reckoned that even they were going to be a challenge for me to walk in.  However, they fitted perfectly and I found walking in them easier than I first thought.

“You can bring the boots back after you’ve got yourself some new shoes, Helga won’t be back for a couple of weeks.  Oh, and you can have this shoulder bag too.  Someone left it behind months ago.   In it you’ll find some make up and a hankie - that was also left behind.”

“Before you put on this top we’d better do your hair for you as I don’t think you’ve got a clue on women’s hairstyles.”   That was true - I hadn’t got a clue about anything in the female hairstyling or make-up department.  Dana set about my hair, brushing it into a ponytail that she fixed with a black scrunchie. 

“And now your face.  We can’t have you going out looking like that - especially with those red eyes,” said Lee Ann returning to the room with her make-up box.

When she had fixed my face to everyone’s satisfaction and after I had pulled on the long-sleeved black top, Dana suggested that I go into the Green Room, stand in front of one of the full-length mirrors in there and get to recognise my new self.   I was surprised with what I saw.  I couldn’t take my eyes off my new body - those two full rounded boobs, the smooth curve of my bum, the width of my hips, plus the softness of my face and hands.   It wasn’t me at all - but for all that, the person standing in front of that mirror was definitely a real live woman and not just a bloke masquerading as one.   But I still had to pluck up confidence to actually go out into the street and face the real world.

But first I needed to go to the toilet.  I headed for the bathroom and my first reaction was to stand in front of the bowl and do it as I had always done since I was about 18 months old.  Then I realised that this was not on and had to lift my skirt, pull down my pantyhose and panties and sit down.  The relief was the same but the feeling quite different.  I probed inside my new vagina with my fingers.  I had done this dozens of times before to vaginas of other women but now I was doing it to myself.  It was warm, wet and slippery in there, but my probing aroused no sexy feelings, neither did fingering my new-found clit.  I straightened my clothes, washed my hands and went back into the kitchen.

“You’d better take these, you never know when they may come in handy,” said Dana as she handed me a large carrier bag into which she’d put all my old clothes.
I got my wallet and key ring out of the bag and put them in the handbag.

“OK, ready?” asked Dana.  “I’ll come with you as far as your car.”

“Let us know how you’re getting along - you’ve got our phone number,” chimed in Liz, “and if there’s any way we can help, just give us a call or drop in.”  I think that she really meant it.

I tried to thank them all for their help and offered to pay for the clothes, but just couldn’t find the right words.

“Oh, don’t worry about that - you can fix that up later after you’ve sorted everything out,” said Liz with a wave of her hand.  “Do you feel ready to get yourself home?”

I nodded - but not with much confidence.   Well I reckoned that, if there was to be no going back, the sooner the new me ventured outside the better - but I hoped that ‘home’ was still the place that I left last night.

Lee Ann gave me a womanly peck on the cheek as I left; she waved and then closed the front door behind me.   I was outside and with Dana chatting away beside me, I was heading down the street to the parking station.  I felt half undressed but I was finding the female clothing quite comfortable - and the heels were not too difficult to walk in, although I was a bit wobbly at first.  I was very aware of the weight and bounce of my boobs and the sway of my hips as I walked.  I found that I was forced to take smaller steps as even though the straight skirt had a 6-inch split at the back it still restricted my stride.  After years of wearing men’s trousers I just wasn’t used to snug fit of the skirt around my hips and thighs.  I also felt that everyone was staring at me - they probably weren’t, but I could not have felt more exposed if I had been walking down the street in the nude! 

“Where’s your ticket?” asked Dana as we got near the parking station. “You’ve got to pay the man.”

My first reaction was to reach into my trousers pocket for my wallet - but then I remembered that I hadn’t got any trousers pockets.  I fumbled in the handbag for the wallet and found the ticket.  I was saved the possible embarrassment of having to go up to the window and pay as the overnight rate was a fixed charge and I had pre-paid when I parked last night.   My car was still where I had left it on the first floor.  I pressed to button on the remote and the door locks sprung open.  I threw the carrier bag and handbag on the passenger seat and climbed in.

“Don’t forget, give us a call if there’s anything we can do to help.  You could even end up working with us - you certainly know the ropes by now.”  Dana smiled and gave me a wink as she pushed the car door closed

She stood and watched as I drove down the ramp and called out “The best of luck,” as she waved me goodbye. 

I was soon on the freeway heading for home.  I drove into the parking lot under the apartment block and backed into my parking space.  My next-door neighbour walked past just as I was getting out of the car.  “Good morning,” he said. “Are you a friend of Les?” I nodded and smiled.   I was relieved that he had not recognised me and that he didn’t stop and chat some more.

My mind was still in a whirl and more confused than ever by the time that I rather tentatively slipped the key into the lock on the front door.  To my great relief the door opened and I went inside.  It was an even greater relief to shut the door and lock it behind me.  Now to wake up - now to get back to the football playing, beer-drinking 6ft tall Leslie Thomas I knew I was.  But nothing changed - I was still trapped inside this new body.

I dropped the two bags by the front door and hurried into the bedroom to find my ‘real’ clothes.  I opened the wardrobe doors and all my clothes, shoes and everything else were there just as I left them last night.  The same with the dressing table drawers and the bedside tables - nothing had changed except me.  I checked out the bathroom and, yes, there was my electric shaver, anti-perspirant - even my familiar toothbrush that I had been meaning to throw out for weeks now.  I shut the cabinet door and went into the kitchen to get myself a cup of strong, black coffee.  I probably needed something even stronger!

Sitting sipping my coffee and looking round my familiar kitchen I was near to tears again.  I kept on saying to myself “What the Hell am I going to do now?”  I picked up the handbag and got out my wallet.  Inside should be my driving license, that’ll have my name and a photograph.  Yes it did - there was Leslie R. Thomas looking back at me.  Even more doubts crossed my mind - perhaps I was dreaming that I was once a male!  Then I had a bright idea - I’d give the office a call, although it was Saturday morning, someone was sure to be there.  I dialled the number.  A lady’s voice answered the phone - I think it was one of the cleaners.   “Could I speak to Leslie Thomas please?”  I asked.

“Er, Just a minute,” the voice at the other end replied.  I heard the phone clunk down on the desk.  After a while a man’s voice came on the line.  “Who’s calling?” he asked - it was my boss. 

“Er, this is Leslie’s cousin.  We were going to for coffee this morning but Leslie hasn’t turned up, I was just wondering …”

“Sorry Miss but its Saturday and he’s not here.  Have you tried his home number?”  Came the reply. 

I needed to hear no more.  As soon as I heard ‘…HE’S not here’ and ‘… HIS home number…’ I dropped the receiver back in its cradle.  So they say that I was a male at work - and I’m damned sure I was!

As I poured myself another cup of coffee I noticed a smear of lipstick on the cup - my lipstick.  This was enough to trigger another panic attack.  Again I burst into tears.  I sat down with a thump and buried my head in my hands.   I was trying to work out what to do next but I was still not thinking logically.  I was trapped inside this woman’s body but inside my head I was still a male.  I knew nothing about being a woman.  What was worse I had absolutely no recollection of the past life of this woman I now was.  Who was she?  She must have had friends, but who were they?  Or didn’t she exist before last night?  These and a whole stream of other questions surged through my brain.  There I was, a woman and only the only female things I had were the clothes I was wearing - and they were not mine.  I’ve nothing else - no memories of life as a female and no idea as to how to behave like a female.  Everything else around me belonged to the old, very macho, male Leslie Thomas - even all my memories prior to this morning!  Everything had happened so suddenly - even transsexuals work on their sex change for years and put in a lot of practice being the other sex.  But with me – one instant I was happy being a man and then, zap, I was a woman!

I looked at my new self again in the mirror - I suppose that I was beginning to like what I saw but I knew that I still had to confront the real world outside and the real me within.  Perhaps if I went to sleep then, when I woke up, I would again be the old Leslie Thomas and all this would have been just a bad dream.   But somehow I hoped that it wasn’t.  With these thoughts ringing in my head I went into the bedroom and, with the pale spring sunshine streaming through the window, I collapsed onto the bed, buried my head in the pillow and, still fully dressed, I cried myself to sleep.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

07.01.05