His words were beginning to make me feel like shit. I hung my head. Dean Porter got up and lit a big incense candle. He dimmed the lights in his office. He walked over and put his hand on my shoulder. “I hate to do this to you as much as you hate to receive it, but do you understand how bad and unruly you are, son?” Tears streamed down my face. I had never had a man talk like this to me. My whole body felt weak. I wanted to lay my head on Dean Porter’s broad chest. I was dizzy and the room grew dimmer. All I could hear was the soft murmur of Dean Porter’s voice as he had me remove my clothes one piece at a time. He made me stop at my tapered boxers. “I’m a man,” I whispered weakly. “You’re not a man, until you’ve cried.” Dean Porter walked behind me. He felt my round firm ass. I got the kind of perched booty that girls and even some dudes check out. “Nice ass,” he said. “All of that time in the gym has paid off, young star.