" Joe tried to recall his social security number, he knew he had one but it seemed to be just out of reach." Joe tried to recall his social security number, he knew he had one but it seemed to be just out of reach. Joe got scared. What else had they removed from his memory? "Do you have any skills to support yourself?" Joe shook his head no. "Well then, I know, that with a body like yours, there's one way you can earn a living." Joe was almost crying now. He knew that it was unavoidable that this subject would come up. Regardless of what they'd done to his body, he couldn't, he wouldn't, make love to a man. He was no faggot. Joe's subconscious had managed to obscure his little episode with Monica, that was somehow something else, and he had no inkling of the cravings implanted in his mind, which had yet to reveal themselves. Dr. van Damme spoke. "The only thing that bothers me is the fact that your wife's contract didn't reimburse us for your clothing and jewelry." Joe saw a glimmer of hope. Perhaps he could avoid the street after all. "Uh, Doctor. Maybe I could stay here and work for you, at least until you've recovered your money?" "I don't think so Mr. |