Any protest, any desire to cry out, was stifled by the way that, once again, my lips were glued together."Look, I can make it nod its head," Sandra sa...d, tugging at the relevant string. My head nodded furiously as if it were attached to the same strings. "Would you like to dance, little marionette, would you?"The marionette and I both nodded our head. She jerked the marionette to its feet and, rocking the control bar back and forth, made it do a little dance. So far I was still kneeling but I. She asked what type of women I go for now. I asked, do you really want to know? She said oh hell yes, we never had secrets before.I like a woman that puts no demands on me. She has to be very sexual, who loves sex as much as I do, and has no inhibitions. Hard to find, but out there. The internet helps in that cause now. I said I like a woman that isn’t afraid to say what she likes in bed, and loves to talk dirty. She laughed, and said, you don’t ask for much. Then asked what if the right woman. I think I have the raw materials right but I need your help to watch over me so I cook them in the correct order and cook them correctly.”“I’ll be glad to help. Let’s start water for the grits and the bacon in the frying pan.” She smiled and took a pot and measured the right amount of water for the grits. She turned on the proper burner for it. She also turned on the burner for the frying pan. She then peeled the bacon off and placed the pieces on the pan to cook. We went through the process. His eyes strained to open up on a blurry surreal world. Surely what he saw before him couldn’t possibly be real. After all, why was he lying on the kitchen floor? What exactly had happened to him? Slowly his mind struggled through the pain shrouded curtain, and started piecing the events together while his eyes strived to come into focus. His eyes finally came to focus on the kitchen ceiling fan. He was on his back, on the kitchen floor. His eyes drifted to the side, and to his horror, he saw.