O.K. I confess. It all happened after my wayward wife ran off with another man with more money than me. The fact he was fat and boring and completely braindead didn’t seem to matter to her.

Apparently, she said, it was all my fault. I made her do it, presumably by being a loyal, loving, reliable, faithful etc, etc, husband. Wasn’t worth being one of them, obviously !

So, in an effort to see things from her point of view, I tried thinking myself into her head and tried to understand how she was thinking.

That’s when it started happening.

I began to find that all I could think about was spending other people’s money and shopping, then it was clothes. This was soon followed by the idea of selling myself to other people in return for access to their wallets.

But I soon found it more and more difficult telling the difference between men and women in the world of sex obsessed narcissists.

Soon I discovered the delights inside those Anne Summers shops and then there was no stopping me.

I went wild with excitement !

Now I can’t quite tell what sex I am and neither can anyone else when I wear those luuurvly rubber vests AND really, really weird rubber bras and other underthings.

OOOOh, all those funny straps and that restriction all over the body. It Soooooo exciting, don’t you know.

Oooops !