Her breast was still exposed, the nipple long and erect. “What’s it taste like?” I asked. My mom seemed to be startled awake by my question. “...uh?” “What’s it taste like? The milk? Is it like cow milk?” My mom laughed and said, “I don’t know.” We lay quietly for a while longer. My mother showed no signs of getting up to get something for me to eat. “I guess I’m gonna get up,” I said. She put her hand on my arm and said, “No, honey, don’t get up. Just a bit longer.” She obviously didn’t feel. Around her big toes were strips of rawhide that had been plaited togetherand woven into her long dark hair to tighten her obviously supple body intoa taut arch. The same type of rawhide strips had also been used to fasten herlabial rings to the back edge of the table and hold them for what they were,two flaps of skin, away from her body. Her nipple rings were fastened in exactly the same way to the front of thetable. She was in probably the most immobile and most uncomfortable position I. More

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