The customs supervisor looks through the paperwork, and her eyes go up. She slowly nods yes, and asks me to open them for her to confirm the contents....The two inspectors are very surprised to see the contents of this pallet. It has our body armour, ammunition, our swords, and our other weapons. It’s checked against the papers and signed off, which is a surprise for the two inspectors, because most of this is unlawful to import. I open the sword case when asked, and the Customs supervisor smiles. I've been sitting here all of this time thinking that you liked me and were just too shy to do anything about it."She looked at me again, as if she was analyzing me. "I guess it's a case of transference, huh?" A case of what?" I asked."Transference," she repeated. "In psychology we learned that people sometimes think that because they feel a certain way everyone else does as well or sometimes just specific other people. I guess I thought that since I like you so much, you felt the same."She. In my young innocence, I even remember my mother telling me off for staring at them! In response, the women would often give me a little smile or polite laugh as they stripped nude to head for a shower or dry off. There would be girls of about my age too, but it was the grown-up women I was most interested in watching. I would see their naked bums as they toweled themselves dry, then turn around with their breasts and (being the 80s) full bushes of pubic hair between their legs visible to me.. When I finished my training I was my normal height of 1.9 meters and my weight was a hefty 90 kilograms--but I had a gymnist's body. That body had a deep tan--and was free of body hair. Speaking of hair, only my eyelashes, eyebrows, and scalp had hair. My scalp hair grew in the pattern favored by that tribe for males--thinned bald in front, bunched up in a bun on the back of my head. The rest of my "uniform" was a string around my waist that held my penis by its foreskin so that I was sort of.
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