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I looked on in horror at what had just happened. All my attempts to keep my true identity secret had been snatched from me in that one cold moment when Charles Wild, Skipper of the Golden Eagle, grabbed my shirt and it came away in his hands. His eyes focused on the bindings that held my breasts in place to give the impression I was a boy. I saw the lust in his eyes and realised I could no longer hide under the name of Jack Jones.

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