"Yes, child. I am your whore!" I shouted without provocation. I humped into his focused thrusts, trying to empty my own mind of everything spiteful ab...ut my mother and husband and all the stupid cocks in the world that had fucked me without a care for what they were really receiving. Michael knew it instinctively. Fucking was power. Women are engines, objects, soulless beasts, but the fuel burning inside us are men's souls. I felt my son tense. His breath labored as mightily as his legs. The. But once itdoes, the intimacy, the personal and tender care extended, the reciprocitybetween the two, often evolves seamlessly from one kind of care-giving anddependency into something quite different and long-lasting."It was all a lie! Nancy thought grimly. These obsessive, selfish littleperverts--- "pervs" as the Agency girls dismissively called them whiletalking privately among themselves out of earshot of Agency personnel---were no more capable of negotiating a loving, reciprocal. More

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