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Monday, January 12, 2004

A reader asked me an insightful question: (he's quoting me in the first part)

----
> I want to be a commodity. I want to be licked off the floor by eager
> men wanting more of the tantalizing Leticia taste. I want to be
eaten,
> in full, without clothes, so that somebody can know what I taste
like.
> I want to be part of the world.

That is quite charming, and it's a very provocative statement. As a
commodity, what would define your value? Would Leticia the commodity
mind being used at will and then discarded? What would it mean for a
commodity `to mind'?
---

He asked for me not to print his name, but I’ll give you a hint: it does not rhyme with “chartreuse.”

I suppose what would define my value is how much sex I had, or how good I was at it, or to what extent I could giggle girlishly as I came onto my client’s body, reeling him in to the tantalizing Leticia taste. But really, that piece I wrote was so emotional, I couldn’t bring myself to read it again until this fine chap pointed it out to me (I know, I shouldn’t be afraid to read it if I posted it on the Internet...)

So, Leticia the commodity is on sale cheap, take ‘em away at 500 gold pieces. She wants the whole world to see what she’s made of. Bite into her and feel her life force oozing out. Let her flesh balance on your tongue as you suck out this bright young woman’s energy. End her as you take her persona into your own. Then wash it down and prepare for a good night’s sleep, until Leticia’s grieving family catches up to you...

--Leticia

P.S. This guy is somebody who seems to “get me,” (in that he’s polite about my sexuality) and because of that I am awarding him ten Leticia points, redeemable at fine Leticia outlets near you.

P.P.S. Speaking of commoditization; I wonder what it would feel like to be made of cardboard, with everybody around you manipulating you like some kind of stand-up, as they jeer at you and fondle you and wonder why they would possibly bring you into the office, but they have a few moments of fun with you before sending you and your bright smile sailing down the paper shredder, soon to join the legion of rejects at the bottom of the recycling bin. Ohhh....
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