“Can I help you?” I ask, thankful my voice doesn’t waver.“Good morning, Natalie,” he says, holding out a perfect hand. His nails are trimmed... the cuticles neat. His fingers are long, warm as he clasps my hand. “I’m Lucian Martinus.”“Good morning, L. Martinus,” I say returning the greeting in a more socially acceptable form. We are all equal under the government’s benevolent eye. Titles and first names are impolite gender conventions.His voice is vaguely familiar, but my head is muzzy; too. Kevin startedthrashing around on top of me, grinding his muscular butt into my achingdick. His moans were getting louder and faster, and were punctuated by gaspsand occasional giggles, which goaded me on. For the first time in my life Iwas fulfilling my fantasy of eating a hot foot. I started to nibble on theheel of Kevin's squirming, trembling foot. I opened my mouth as wide aspossible, gnawed on the sole of his heel, and raked my teeth across the insideof his. More

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