He returned to the present. “ ... like my mother?” He looked Eudora up and down, and then recoiled from her. “I fucked you, and you look like my...mother!?”“Your greatest fantasy, master,” she replied, stroking his face with her gloved hand. “Trust me, I know.”He dropped his head into his hands. “No ... no...”She stood back up. “Bad news: the doctors couldn’t do anything for your penis. Your co-worker chewed it up good before I could stop her. I told the doctors it was an attack by a stray dog; a. She had carefully dressed in white capris, a sleeveless emerald green top andmatching ballet flats. "Tequila Sunrise" played on the TV, in the forlornhope that a little bit of Michelle Pfieffer's classy and competentcharacter would soak into her personality at the 11th hour.Kelly could not help but think about the scene from Peter Jackson's KingKong when his captors had introduced the caged beast to New York society.Stop it! Just stop it! If you insist on thinking of yourself that way,how can. He had already initiated most of his female congregation into the practice of anal submission in covert sessions of Bible study. He did it all under the guise of preparing the happy ankle grabbers for the temptation of sinful pursuit of hedonistic weaknesses so rampant in the younger generation. He made true believers of them with his demanding staff that seemed prepared to punish their sinning backsides with appropriate penance that stretched them to their limits of submissive endurance. It. “Sorry, Glen, but I can’t.”“Well, why the fuck not?” Glen asks, his words slurry.“It’s the rules,” Robert replies. “As much as I hate this fucking place, I need it. If I break the rules then I’ll be out on my ass like you.”“On my ass?” the elderly man asks. “I ain’t one of those piss drunks that kill people lie that fucker there.” He then points up at the television.Robert steps closer to the bar, closer to the man, close enough to smell the putrid smell of alcohol on his breath. On the.