All I had left to cling to was, to put it bluntly, the questionable potential of compassion from high-class S&M prostitute. A sophisticated and un-tar...-like whore, whom I paid for sex, paid to punish me for being alive. Who as far as could tell thought next to nothing of me, and treated me like a piece of meat when I was in her presence. Perhaps this would be the last time ... I sang the old Stones song to myself to keep the tears at bay. But the song said 'Last time maybe, I don't know, ' and. At first I looked up every time someone entered the room but after a while I became engrossed in my writing and oblivious to the comings and goings. "Good afternoon Carol," a familiar voice greeted me. Brenda and Ken Wilson stood before my desk; the friends that got me the initial interview with King Joshua. I looked up wide-eyed. I knew they were coming out here to do some work but never expected to see them."Good afternoon ma'am, sir," I replied."Very formal," Brenda laughed, "I heard you had. More

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