I give birth to a man. I make the man strong. I feed the man with my milk. I make him grow in strength. It is because of my efforts that a man is able...to survive. It is I who makes a man successful in life. No man can consider himself equal to me. I am above him. he is below me. I am his Deity. he is my worshiper. I am his Goddess. he is my slave. he adores me. he worships me. he glorifies me. his life and his whole being is dependent on me. Without me, he is nothing. Without me, he is dirt.. Her toes rubbed against my hand, and I pulled back with a start, banging my head against the desk. “Ooh!” I moaned. “What’s going on? Do you need some help?” she chirruped. “No. I know what I’m doing,” I said after a short hesitation. I reached out for her ankle and caressed it, at first shyly, then more confidently. She didn’t move, nor did she say anything, as if she wanted to encourage me. My hand moved up and started to massage her calf. I didn’t know what exactly I was about to do, but. More

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