My seed was usually spilled on the floor or over a bowl of dirty water. My mother was expected to lap it up, but otherwise, she lived on day-old-bread... and the cast-offs from our supper plates. She usually crawled on the floor and ate like a dog with her legs exposed to my Grandmother’s cane.My father insisted on receiving the same treatment in the privacy of his bedroom or the small room after that. I doubted he was concerned about Nannette, and I witnessing such a disgusting and intimate act. And I worshipped every hair on Nigel’s body, from his blond mop to the fuzz on his legs.”“So, what did you do?”“Everything. Nigel knew everything. He always believed his Dad was a poufter, ‘cause he learned a lot of what we did from his Dad’s gay porn videos. He’d burn copied and kept them in the lock at the foot of his bed. It’s kind of funny—Nigel told me that when he was my age, he was the special boy of the senior chorister, but all he knew how to do was a bit of groping and whacking. More

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