"Henry, I dropped my pencil. Could you pick it up for me?" she'd whisper. She'd be partially turned to face me. Her face would be pleading. Somehow an...ther button was undone on her blouse. I'd feel my palsy return with its accompanying red heat as I struggled to reach her pencil that was closer to her than to me.Then something happened one day, as if the gods on high, drained by their laughter at the poor mortal suffering mightily below, deigned to take pity on him. It didn't appear that way at. I said that she shouldn't worryabiout being so thorough because I didnt want to be locked that longanyway. She just shussed me and said she was a professional and would doher job correctly. I need to behave and deal with it. I quieted down andassisted as i usually did by helping to stretch skin this way and thatas she directedWhen she was done she told me to put my cage back on and she would helpme fix it it place and then left the room. This seemed kind of odd andwhen I looked around for the. More

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