Michelle Bennett was a hard taskmistress for Denise Gordon. Denise Gordon; it was like it wasn't me, even though I responded to the name. I had to. No one called me anything but Denise. Michelle seemed determined to get me into trim as a woman in record time. I must admit that I had to wonder at times if they were't feeding me some drug in the water and light salads, my main foods, because sometimes, just sometimes, I found myself hardly able to remember I was Charley Howell. I wasn't acting at those times.
I would be dressed in a short sexy dress, my pretty legs encased in nylon, my makeup done by experts, my figure eye-catching and gently shaped by my feminine lingerie. Michelle would start it and urge me on in teasing whoever they had guarding us. It was fun to flirt with my tormentors who could not answer back. I loved it then. I was Denise.