I am Baaack! Part 1

After "whatthehell!" had run through his mind about a thousand times, and the fact that things were drastically wrong had run through another thousand, Ross's logical computer geek persona had decided to listen; after all, that was all there was that he could do. Rose was gone now, and, oddly, although he felt scared and angry, the predominant emotion was acute embarrassment that he, a man, was sitting here, in this predicament, looking for all the world like a pretty young lovestruck girl.

Chapter 2: Bitches Are Made, Not Born

Joan continued. "I was the brightest student in my class all through high school. I knew it, and I didn't try to hide it, like the Barbie wannabe cheerleaders did, to impress the boys. The boys didn't like that. The fact that I was pretty, I quickly found, hindered rather than helped my academic career, because it was hard for men to take me seriously. My male teachers patronized me, and the boys all seemed to take my intellect as a challenge: 'Let's see if we can shag the uppity bitch; take her down a peg! Har har.'

"In my senior year, they succeeded. Six of the football 'heroes' caught me alone one night and gang raped me. They took some pictures that made it seem as if I was going along voluntarily, threatening to beat me bloody if I didn't pose 'nice'. They pushed me out of the car onto my front lawn when they were finished, and left me. I managed to get in the house without waking my parents, took an hour and a half shower, and went to bed. My parents were good people, and didn't deserve the hoopla that would ensue if I tried to assert the truth, so I never told them. The next week I graduated. The week after, I left for college. My parents died in a car accident two months later, and it was ten years before I returned to that town. When I did, it was for revenge.

"By that time, I was both a plastic surgeon and a psychiatrist - told you, I was bright - and had, by chance, come upon a way to take revenge on those boys, now men, who had raped me.