Power and Mike.

What is power?
For a long time it meant a meaningless combination of sounds: P-O-W-E-R. Something that males are addicted to playing Whose-Dick-Is-Bigger games throughout their lives. A drug the society hooks you on making you participate in never-ending rat racing.  I used to look at others with the mixed feeling of condescending sympathy and relief. I felt sorry for their constantly desperate attempts to win in societal competitions and was blessed that I do not have to emulate.
After my personal experience with power I changed my opinion. It happened when I ended up homeless and pregnant with Greg’s baby. I was shocked and frozen spending days at work, evenings in the library, and nights in a stinky shelter surrounded by trashy people who stole my food and blahed over the government cell phones preventing me from sleeping. It was freezingly cold there, and, devoid of iron, I kept trying to adjust the AC to at least 75F until a junkie complained to the shelter attendant. I got yelled at, and they locked the temperature at 65F making me constantly shiver under the blanket.
I spent my entire free time in the library trying to focus on my doctorate. Looking for a place to move in was another headache, since my budget was too tight to cover the first and the last payment and the security deposit.
It was the time I lost count of days. Work, school, library, realtor, shelter. And cold, Greg’s baby made me freeze all the time.  And one day I met Mike. It was Friday night. I went to an old car show to take a break from everything and look at nicely dressed people. He gave me a smile, and I laughed in return. He was very approachable, and I was numb, dizzy, and freezing.
3 months pregnant, 85 pounds, and no insurance and desire to see a doctor. At that time, the last thing I wanted was letting medical idiots invade my privacy through ultrasounds, blood-work, and ridiculous recommendations to poison my unborn baby with dead bodies of slaughtered animals and infused with antibiotics dairy.   
On one of our dates he asked me for a blowjob. I slowly shifted my eyes from the platter of carrot rolls to his face and said “No”. I craved badly for carrots with raw nori and was happy that Mike took me to a vegan place and paid for it.  
          You will get allowances babe.
          No Mike.
          Aren’t you interested in how much?
          How much?
          How much do you want?
          It does not matter since I am not doing it. Can you order another platter of carrot rolls, by the way? – Of course he did not know I was pregnant. I was skinny to a fault and very pale. Obviously, he had a crush on anorexic girls.
          Just say Yes, and I will buy you whatever you want.  – He was a nicely looking guy, good perfume, refined manners, ironed shirt. But the taste of his cum was not something I wanted at that time.
          I am not doing it Mike. Sorry.  – Stress and pregnancy blocked everything, I literary felt nothing. No anger or frustration, just the craving for carrots and nori.
          I will pay you 400
I almost choked on my roll. Mike had that innocently pacific look on his face as if he were offering a scoop of ice-cream
 –          Are you kidding?
          Well, you need money my dear, you are in trouble, just trying to help – His blue eyes were deep and very warm, a white shirt, refined manners. – Wanna receive it without condom and cum in your mouth and …
I put the chopsticks aside. My appetite was entirely spoiled, but my mood jumped from zero to hundred. For the first time in my life I felt I was powerful. Homeless, pregnant, penniless, and lonely I had the luxury of saying No to the offer that exceeded my annual salary. Looking into Mike’s eyes, I felt he was losing and I was winning. I did have a dick, and my dick was much bigger than his. I was in power to build my life beyond the required package for a young and decent soon-to-be-mom lady: a house, a lawn, and someone with an average-sized cock and irregular erection to pay for the golf and boat lifestyle. The feeling of freedom from the societal slavery was strong and amazing. My collar was off, my leash was torn.
He went on talking and talking about my horrible job, problems with housing, and his sincerely willingness to help. The more rational he sounded, the funnier our dialogue seemed to me.
Abuse in my marriage escalated when I got pregnant, I had to run away. Who knows; maybe my ex felt the baby is not his. He kicked me out of his insurance as soon as I left. Greg did not answer the phone. His secretary told me he was in Argentina until the end of the month. The whole situation was ridiculously unreal, and the grand finale of meeting that horny jerk seemed funny to me. I sensed Mike’s change of attitude, he could not bend me over, I had the dick, it was much bigger and firmer. 
He got respectful. I asked him for another portion of carrot rolls to go and for a couple of warm blankets.
          Do you need anything else, babe?
          Yes, Buddha.
          I will put him under the pillow, he will help me find serenity and fall asleep in this stinky place
          You’ll get it.
He silently followed me to my car with the box of the carrot rolls, put it on the passenger seat, and asked if I was still willing to see him again. I gave him my business card and drove away. Dating someone weaker than I am was not on my agenda.
It was the turning point. I knew things would get better. The next day I got approved for Medicaid and scheduled to check on Greg’s baby. Two days later Mike mailed me some cash, it was enough to take care of the required payments and move into my own place. A week after I received a phone call from Greg’s office. He was back and willing to help with food and doctor visits. He was excited that I finally had my own apartment where he could see me whenever he wanted.
My inner power was with me, I felt it, experienced it, and it was fun.

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