All those pretty boy and young men, all male and macho like me, walking around in sissy pink panties and bra under their street clothes. I guess they wouldn’t be calling anyone faggot or queer then with everyone knowing what they were wearing. Just to be on the safe side I wore a tee shirt over the bra and teddy, as I didn’t want them showing through my shirt, even though I was wearing a lightweight vest over my shirt. That should hide any tell-tale outlines or visible signs of what I was wearing.I felt the outline of the bra, and the lace around the top of the teddy, and I couldn’t resist the urge to touch myself after that, letting out a soft moan as I stroked my cock. It felt so good, and I sat on the toilet a little longer, reveling in the feeling between my legs and smell of the toilet. Somehow, the smell made it feel even more shamefully erotic and depraved. With a sigh I stopped, knowing that if I didn’t I’d jack off until I climaxed, and I wanted that feeling to go on as long. The film made me ill and really upset me. I shouldn't have watched it. There appeared to be three episodes with the same three men in each. I decided to get those men too, even if they weren't the same men who raped Brooke. I took the film and letter to the safety deposit box at the bank.As soon as I got the film and letter put away in the bank, I flew back to Summerdale. I didn't talk with anyone at the fraternity or with Dorothy, Peggy or Jeanette.My mood didn't get better flying down or after I got back to Summerdale. Brooke was unable to sleep and seemed worse. I had one of the former SF doctors give her medication. He used the medication they gave to a soldier who suffered from combat fatigue. He recommended I get her seen by a good psychiatrist.I couldn't get the film's images out of my mind. I stayed up with Brooke all night. The medication knocked her out, but, even with her asleep, I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to take medication; my body chemistry was already a mess, and.
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