Andrew would have screamed had he had control of his vocal cords. The thought of being named after a sissy was bad enough, but the idea of being turned into a infant transvestite was abhorrent to him. The dark nightmare had continued to descend into vile pathways that would have made his adult scrotum draw itself up protectively into the safety of his groin and triggered a violent reaction from the rest of him. As it was, he could only lay helplessly in the foolishly giggling body that he occupied and pray silently to his God that he’d be delivered from a fate that he considered worse than death.