~For the duration of our honeymoon, Nanette made sure that I was properlydeflowered. Repeatedly. Eager to apply all I had learned in school aboutbeing...a good wife, I kept my hair a cluster of inviting curls, going tothe hairdresser every afternoon, so that each evening my styled hair wasavailable for her strong fingers to play with, to control my head, drawingme down, guiding me to worship and to lap her sweetness. As a new bride Iunderstood my mother's direction that my hair ought to be. Still, I had found myself liking the little girl he had become. I wouldhave to tread softly. I wanted to help her, but making things easy forher might not be the best help. I was starting to understand thedifficult task the gods had given themselves. They strove to make ourlives whole, but not necessarily easy."Okay," she said, accepting that I was not going to tell her aboutmyself. "I understand, I think. It's hard to think straight any more."Yes, it was. One of the great difficulties in. More

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