’She didn’t actually say that, or at least I don’t think she did. The acid was kicking in hard and things had gotten hazy, but whether she actua...ly said it or not it didn’t matter - it was the truth. No fucking question.And the man who’d just strolled into her diner wasn’t like those men she’d signed off on. He wasn’t like the guy passed out on his stool at the counter, or the pimp that just barged in, stared out the premises, and shimmied off just as quickly. He was different, and she knew it.. Nowadays, they’re pretty common, though everyday humanity still doesn’t believe they exist. Mutants hide who and what they are, and for good reason. The world is hostile to those who are different. Trust me, I know this better than anyone. I’ve seen genocide more times than I can count. Anyhow, the early twenty-first century found me living in Westford, Vermont, making a living as the athletic director of Samson College, a small private school. I’ve always had an appreciation for sportsmen and. A man beacon.A neck breaker. With my surprised and sultry look, and my latex lipsformed into a permanent O, I could be a home wrecker. And despite mypain, I found myself liking what I saw. I had been conditioned to, and Ihad been conditioned well. For months.But is there something more, slut, is there something there thatconditioning didn't affect? Can you attribute everything to"conditioning? A whisper went through my head.Looking at myself, it was clear that Master Jason had spent my. "Sweetie, mommy can't give you milk. It's all gone. You drank it all up when you were just a baby. I can't make any more milk unless I have another baby. Do you understand?" He calmed down some but I could tell he didn't buy it.Paul must've realized he wasn't going to convince his mother, so he ceased his struggles and pouted giving her his best sad eyes. He often used this tactic when he wanted something he couldn't have. When he saw it wasn't going to work this time, Paul made like he was.