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The Chronicles of Theia: The Choosing

The Chronicles of Theia: The Choosing

Her family in peril, Theia will risk her freedom to achieve her dream.

Theia was at peace as she knelt on the cobbled stone floor of her father’s home. Her gaze drifted without conscious direction, following her flickering shadow as it elongated toward the wall of the tiny abode. Without the slightest tremble, she held her hands together, raising them in offer of servitude to the old man standing before her.

Her mother, wracked with sorrow, sobbed and pleaded with her daughter. Surely, Theia knew, she would have rushed to her defense and whisked her away had she not been held back by her husband. Seeing her mother in such pain broke Theia's heart, but she held her hands steady, convinced to her core that this was the only way to save her family; and the only way she could fulfill her destiny. 

"Please, Mama, try to understand. Please forgive me. This is the only way to save you all." 

Heartbroken, she sighed heavily as her pleas went unanswered. Her grief-stricken mother seemed beyond rational thought, and when the Slave Merchant grasped Theia’s hands and slipped the bronze shackles over her flawless skin, her mother crumpled to the ground, unable to accept the sacrifice her daughter was making for her family.

With a grinding click, the old man set the locks, binding Theia’s wrists together. The shackles felt cold and heavy, and the dull ring of the chains echoed off the stone floor, mixing with the plaintive sobs of her mother. It was a haunting moment for Theia, but she’d expected no less when she asked her father to sell her as a slave. 

A single tear rolled down her cheek while the old man counted out a handful of silver coins and dropped them into a small leather bag. The rattle of the coins seemed to match that of her chains as the man offered the bag to her father. It was more money then he could ever hope to have, but his face was ashen and he looked ashamed. He could not find the will to meet the slaver’s gaze. 

"Daughter, I beg you reconsider. Once done, your fate will be in the hands of the Gods, and they care little for the sorrows of the poor."

He sounded weak and broken, and Theia forced a smile, trying to reassure him. "Father, you must take it. For the sake of our family, if not for yourself."

He placed a loving hand on her shoulder and Theia held it with her own, her sorrow matching the weight of the chains that bound her wrists. She was frightened, but without the silver that the Slave Merchant paid for her servitude, her entire family faced destitution and banishment from the city. That fate meant almost certain death for them all.

"Daddy, please, there is no choice. Worry now for Mother, Cyrill, and my baby sister. Otherwise, all of this is for nothing." 

Theia eyed the old man who was now her Master, knowing well what she faced as his property. Her father straightened, deeply saddened but also proud of his daughter’s sacrifice. To save her family, she’d chosen to be sold into slavery. Holding back a tear, he turned to the Slave Merchant.

"Tychos, I beg of you, treat her well. She is pure, and has never lain with a man. I ask only that you consider this tonight, and take her to the Temple. If she is Chosen, you will be paid many times this meager bag of coin." 

The old man shrugged as if he were talking about a bag of turnips. "She is of our people, and not a spoil of war. If she is pure as you say, there is a chance she will be Chosen, however slim." 

Then the old man straightened his crooked back and pressed his bony finger into her father’s chest. "If she is not, though, remember this,” he warned, "she is mine and no longer your concern. Do not make the mistake of forgetting that." His voice cackled with evil mirth and he licked his lips as he eyed Theia, clearly enjoying the thought of having the girl to himself. "I did not pay so much for her so that she could spend her days cleaning floors."

With that, Tychos gathered the chains in his withered hands, and ignoring the hysterical cries of her mother, led Theia into the narrow and dangerous streets of Corinth. Theia followed passively, as was expected of a slave. Too late now, tears began flowing over her porcelain cheeks as her mother’s haunting cries followed her along the cobblestone alley. 

Though it had caught her parents by surprise, her decision to be sold was not made lightly. Her family was very poor, and her father was indebted to dangerous lenders. They needed money, and her sacrifice would enable them to survive until her brother, Cyrill was old enough to help.

As dire a fate as this seemed, she still clung to a measure of hope. Months ago, just after her sixteenth birthday, Theia had joined her parents in celebration at the great Temple of Aphrodite. It had been a grand event, meant to celebrate and honor the Goddess who sanctified the only earthly pleasure the poor of the city could partake. To the people of Corinth, sex was an art, and an openly honored act. 

Even then, Theia knew she’d been brought to the Temple to discover the joys of sex, and so that, when the day came and a husband was found for her, she would be able to please him. 

In her mind, it was a wasted right of passage. Her father was far too poor to provide a suitable dowry, and that meant marriage would come to her only in the form of an older man: a widower or cripple, who would value her youth enough to accept her without the gold that should accompany a proper wife.

As the months passed and her family's future darkened, Theia remembered the splendor of the Ceremony. She’d been struck by the love people showered on the High Priest and Priestess as they coupled sexually in front of the crowd. 

The many Priestesses of the Temple were the symbols and earthly surrogates of Aphrodite, so when a wealthy citizen made a suitable donation, he was granted an opportunity to 'lay with the Goddess’, and be pleasured by Her. It was an honored task, and becoming a Priestess seemed a far more attractive future to Theia than being married off to an old man whom she would never love.

So it was that Theia prayed at the Temple at dawn of every day, making whatever small donation she was able in order to win the favor of Aphrodite. During those days of prayer and devotion, Theia felt as if she had been touched by the Goddess. She became firm in her belief that Aphrodite would recognize her worthiness.

A peaceful certainty had come over her. It was an unshakable belief that she would not be forsaken and doomed to live a wasted life being used by base and heartless men like Tychos. Despite the slaver's obvious doubt, Theia was sure she would be spared the fate of being sold to one of the common brothels in the city. She had faith in her destiny, and was certain that she would be Chosen.

Her long wait was almost at an end. At sunrise, the Priests would choose three girls to be trained as Hetairas, the priestesses of Aphrodite; girls who would become the vessels of Her sexuality in the Temple of Aphrodite Porne. To save her family, Theia was gambling everything, her life and her freedom, on this fleeting hope she would be among the Chosen.

She had hoped her father would take her to the Temple, but to her dismay, she’d learned that was not possible. Without the sale to the merchant, she would not have been a true slave, and the Priests of the Temple — believing only a slave could show proper devotion — would never have accepted her. Thus, her future hung in the balance at the mercy of the Goddess of Promiscuity. 

Clouds moved in over the City as she was led through the narrow and twisting streets. A cold wind blew between the tightly-packed tenements, proving that winter's merciless grip had not yet been completely broken. Theia felt the cold seep into her hands and feet, and an icy chill set into her young body. She was noticeably shivering by the time Tychos led her into a first-floor apartment not far from the Temple. 

"Come, girl, go inside! You will make a poor offering wearing that filthy woolen chiton." 

Theia followed Tychos inside and waited while he lit a few precious candles. A bronze pot hung over a small, glowing fire in the center of the hearth. Theia knelt by its side, hoping to warm her chilled body. 

Tychos removed her shackles and gestured at the pot. "You might as well have a cup of broth, girl. I don't need you catching your death before I have a chance to sell you off."

"Thank you, my Lord,” Theia said while properly averting her gaze. "Does my Master wish me to pour him a cup first?" 

Tychos sat at his table and laughed. "Aye, I do. It's good to see you have some sense. It would be a shame if I had to give you a beating before the Choosing."

Ignoring the implied threat, Theia carefully poured her new master a cup of the steaming broth, and knelt at his feet before offering it to him. Only after he had taken a drink did she dare pour one for herself. 

Theia knelt on the floor next to her Master and held the cup with both hands. The broth tasted of meat and warmed her pleasantly. Her new master watched her with a hungry gaze while she sipped the broth. Sensing his arousal, Theia became afraid, knowing what he hungered for. 

She was a virgin, but sex was an ever-present part of life and she had no illusions about what he might do to her. If he decided to have her, she would have no choice but to allow herself to be taken. She accepted that her fate was no longer her own. When he finally spoke, she trembled in nervous fear. 

"Stand up, girl! Let's have a look at what I've bought."

With her eyes cast down, Theia stood as commanded. She dared not speak, knowing that a slave's duty was to obey and not question why. 

Tychos also stood and gathered a lock of her hair, letting the silken strands run through his fingers. "Now, take that chiton off. I want to get a proper look at a girl who fancies herself worthy of the Goddess of whores."

Fear crawled up Theia‘s body and she swallowed hard, trying to suppress a tremble as she slowly unwound the woolen sheet that was her dress. She had chosen to be a sex slave, but the reality that he could take her virginity now, and destroy any chance she had of being Chosen, filled her with terror. She moved slowly and sensed his growing impatience.

After the last of the chiton fell from her body, she kept her head down in frightened shame as he ran a hand over her breasts. His coarse and calloused palm felt hot on her smooth skin. His touch was rough and invasive, yet her heart fluttered in something more than fear as he kneaded her breasts. 

She had never been touched by a man and her breath caught in her throat as an unfamiliar mixture of excitement and trepidation swept through her. When he rubbed his palms over her nipples, Theia gasped in surprise at the sensation she felt. 

Her breasts were very firm and large enough to more than fill his hand. Tychos smiled in predatory lust as he tweaked her nipples and laughed wickedly as her body reacted naturally to his touch. As he gently rolled the pinkish buds between thumbs and fingers, they grew long and hard and her eyes glazed in reaction to the pleasure she felt. Stepping closer, he cupped her breasts, lifting and squeezing them until her breathy gasps turned to whimpers. 

"Aye girl, your tits are worthy of the Goddess. Now, let's see if you’re as pure as your father believes."

His words taunted her and Theia shook with fear, but her body also flushed with excitement when her master slid his hand over the flat plain of her abdomen. His lips pressed onto her forehead, kissing her gently while his fingers traveled through the dark hair between her legs. Theia struggled to remain still while fear and arousal tangled like serpents in her belly, 

"If you be not a virgin," he whispered, dipping his fingers down and spreading her pussy lips, "I'll bend you over this table and give you your first fuck as a slave.”

Trembling hard at his touch, Theia adjusted her feet, giving him more room between her thighs. Her breathing became heavy when he touched her in ways she'd never known and her legs weakened as waves of burning pleasure spread throughout her body. 

Instinctively, Theia grasped his shoulders, trying to maintain her balance while she struggled against the urge to beg him to touch her more deeply. His finger was coarse and rough, and she winced as he scraped at her tender flesh. But, as much as it hurt her, the pain only seemed to enhance the pleasure she felt as his finger slipped between her labia and into the glistening, oozing wetness. He ran a fingertip up and back along her slit until it was thickly coated in her oily fluids. Theia had never felt anything so wonderful and she moaned softly while he explored her aching sex.

Leaning into him, Theia could almost smell his arousal. He slid a hand down her back and it came to rest just above her ass. He guided her hips toward his invading fingers. "You're as wet as the Nile, girl," he said in a hoarse whisper. “Now, let's find out if you've yet been properly opened.”

Tychos prodded his middle finger into the deepest part of her slit and probed until she felt a sudden, stinging burn. 

"Ahh, ow!" Theia cried as he bumped her barrier. Feeling the sudden twitch travel through her, Tychos withdrew and slipped his glistening finger into his mouth, and sucked her nectar. Theia‘s mind whirled at the sensations she felt, and her heart pounded. She’d ridden a wave of indescribable pleasure that threatened to burst within her, and now she felt terribly frustrated because he’d suddenly stopped. 

She stood, naked in his small room, desperately trying to resist the urge to fidget and touch herself. She had no idea what these new sensations were and had only the slightest inkling of what they meant. But she knew she wanted more. 

Theia trembled as she waited in frustration for him to give her relief, and she whimpered shamelessly when it failed to come. After a moment, Theia dared to look into his face and, despite his smile, she saw the disappointment in his eyes.

"Aye girl, you are untouched, and so you will remain until morning." He then urged her down, bidding her to kneel before him. "But that doesn't mean you won't please me tonight." 

Theia‘s mind whirled and she stared in open-mouthed fascination as he produced his hard penis from within his robes. Theia had never seen one up close and it was bigger than she would have believed possible. She stared at it in wonder as he pumped his fist along his growing length, just inches from her face. 

"Don't just sit there, girl. Do you know nothing about pleasing a man? I can tell you this, whatever your fate is, sucking cock is sure to be part of it. I'd wager you'll be spending many an hour on your knees from now on, so you might as well start now."

Theia did know. Men in her city would take their pleasure in any available and darkened corner of the streets, and more than once she'd watched in fascination, hidden from view, as their women would please them in just this way.

Slowly, Theia raised her hand to the center of his masculinity, caressing it with her fingers. It felt amazing, hot and hard, yet his skin moved easily over it's ridged core. The fleshy end was covered by its foreskin, the purple bulge hidden like the head of a turtle.

Everything about the man's organ seemed new and exciting. His scrotum hung heavily beneath his protruding cock — and the scent! Oh, it was so strong, filling her senses and making her wet vagina drool in lustful anticipation. She wanted to touch and explore every part of him, and was so entranced that she forgot her duty to her Master. 

Tychos enjoyed watching the girl become so aroused, but he quickly became impatient in his desire. When he grasped Theia by the hair, she let go of his cock and braced herself for a possible blow. “No! Please, don't be angry with me, my Lord. I do wish to please you. I… I just have never seen anything so beautiful.” 

Theia‘s fear of him was as real as her desire to please and she cowed in shame at her perceived failure to do so. 

A blow never came. Instead, the slaver laughed as she groveled on the floor. "Don't be stupid, little whore, I've no reason to strike you.” His voice was strong but also amused, and Theia dropped her hands to her breasts as she gazed fretfully at the man standing above her. 

Taking her by the hair, Tychos lifted her face right up to his throbbing cock. "Now, open your mouth, girl. You are about to get your first taste of a man." 

Theia let her jaw fall slack and she closed her eyes as her master pushed his penis into her mouth, sliding it over her tongue. Instinctively, she trapped his shaft between her lips, sucking him hard as her saliva began to coat his skin. The flavor of his glans was tangy and strong, but not unpleasant. 

She swirled her tongue over his fleshy head and along his length as the man pumped his shaft into her. He held her hair tightly in his fist, controlling every motion as he fucked her mouth, and all she could do was struggle to stay balanced on her knees. Finally, she braced herself on his hips and quickly found that she could more easily stay with him as he pumped his penis ever deeper into her mouth. 

He fucked her slowly at first, telling her where to lick and how hard to suck. He made her lick his balls and suck his sac into her mouth. Saliva ran down his cock and her chin, but the more he made her do, and the faster he fucked her mouth, the wetter her pussy became. Her breasts were spotted with her drool and still, Tychos kept hold of her hair, thrusting his length into her with unrelenting lust. 

Theia surrendered to him so eagerly and she could scarcely explain it. He slapped her face with his erection and shoved it so deeply into her mouth that she gagged and choked on the thick, fleshy head. Yet, even being so callously used, Theia found excitement and joy in his domination.

Theia felt the bulbous end bump her throat and her gut heaved in response to her body’s rejection of it. She felt raw and debased, but her heart beat wildly and a warm flush of arousal heated her blood. She closed her lips tightly on his shaft and ceased all resistance to his grip on her hair. The pounding against her throat was harsh and painful, but his organ felt hot and almost throbbed in her mouth. 

The lewdness of it all burned her body with desire. Lost in the joy of giving pleasure, she forgot her place and dropped her hand to her inflamed pussy. Tickling her wet folds, she reveled in the most delicious of sensations as they bubbled up inside her. She felt a glorious pressure building and it was new and powerful, frightening her terribly. It pulled at her loins and she ached as the incredible feeling rose like pyre in her belly. 

She’d never felt anything like it, but before the fire could consume her, Tychos grunted loudly and a rush of thick, hot fluid filled her mouth. Blast after blast coated her tongue. The sudden flow of rich semen caught her by surprise, and distracted by his orgasm, her own peak receded and disappeared like smoke from a smoldering fire. 

Theia moaned in frustration and turned her attention to swallowing the hot cum he’d pumped into her mouth. When he pulled his slimy and shriveling cock out of her, his seed dripped from her lips and dribbled onto her heaving breasts. 

As her Master stepped away, Theia collapsed to the floor, amazed at how wonderfully powerful the experience had been, aware that she’d gone very close to a pleasure beyond anything she’d ever known. To her, it was as if Aphrodite herself had been caressing her. Theia lay breathless on the floor, begging silently for the Goddess to return and allow her to reach the bliss her touch had promised.

In her reverie, Theia barely noticed her master as he sat heavily in his chair, and she didn't even look at him until he spoke.

"Aye girl, perhaps you have been Chosen. I've not seen a pure maiden take to a cock like that before. You seem born to be a Temple whore.” Thinking himself funny, he cackled like a hyena, laughing at her as she lay naked on the floor.

What may have been nothing more than a joke to him, though, had far more meaning to her. Theia felt that she’d been tested, and the peaceful contentment of certainty she’d felt before returned more powerfully than ever. 

Tychos, not knowing how profound a moment this was for the girl, sat and giggled inanely at his joke. He didn't understand the wonderment she felt, and was completely insensitive to her state of mind. If he had understood, he might have granted her a small moment to reflect. But, to him, she was just a pretty slave girl laying naked on his floor. Now that he’d finished using her to sate his need, his interest in her body returned to that of its monetary value. 

"Clean yourself girl,” he ordered. "You can't go to the Temple smelling like a man just came all over you.” 

As Theia washed in the basin, he prepared the traditional Ceremonial robe she would wear at the Choosing. 


It was an hour before dawn when Tychos returned her to chains and led her into the streets. The air had become even colder, and it's bite cut through the white linen of her robe, chilling her to the bone. By the time the high tower of the Temple came into view, Theia was shivering in the icy wind.

When they reached the outer wall of the Temple, Tychos lifted his head and gazed up at the thickening clouds. "A winter’s’ storm in the spring,” he muttered. "Tis a bad omen, it is." 

Stopping at the ancient, wooden double doors, he turned and fixed his eyes on Theia. "You may have chosen a poor morning to seek the favor of the Gods."

He lifted his gnarled walking stick and he banged it three times on the door. "Open the Gate,” he yelled in his gravely voice. "I bring an offering for the Temple.” Theia felt the cold air grip her throat like the hands of doom.

The heavy doors parted at the slaver’s request and a guard met him on the street. The old man gave the guard her contract, and under the light of the torches, he confirmed that everything was in order. 

"You may secure her to the podium with the rest,” said the guard. “Payment will be made in gold if she is Chosen."

"Aye, let us hope,” the slaver said before leading Theia onto the Temple Grounds. In the center of the wide, grass-covered courtyard was a large, stone platform raised to a full man's height. Theia was led up the narrow steps and brought to a large bronze hoop embedded into the stone. 

Rain began to fall and the old man took a moment to appraise his captive. Her long, black hair trailed below her shoulders and her skin glowed with a beauty possessed only by the young. The white linens she wore quickly became wet in the rain and clung to her body, revealing the splendid shape of her breasts.

"I confess I almost hope you are not chosen, girl. There are many brothels that would pay well for you, and they care not if your purity is soiled."

Theia met his gaze evenly. "I have dedicated myself to the service of Aphrodite. It will be my fate to be Her body on Earth. What man has use of it first is not my choice, be it you or the Priests. I can only accept that it will happen." 

Tychos smiled sympathetically, impressed by her commitment despite himself. Then he bent painfully, locking her chains onto a bronze ring. She was freezing in the cold, but he detected a calm confidence that seemed to warm her. He huffed in disbelief, but then caressed Theia‘s cheek in obvious affection. "Believe it or not, girl, despite what I’ve just said, I hope you are Chosen. If ever there was a girl meant for the Temple, it must be you."

"Thank you, my Lord, and thank you for leaving me untouched. I will make a sacrifice in your name for your kindness."

Tychos smiled and shook his head, still believing that she was more likely mad than Chosen. Still, just this once, he allowed her to keep her hope. "You do that, Theia. Now, kneel properly and do not let them see you suffering from the cold. All of this is a test, and the slightest weakness or doubt could be your undoing. Understand?”

Theia nuzzled her face in his hand. "I understand, my Lord. Thank you for your kindness."

The old man wiped the rain from his face. "We will see soon enough." As he left her, the rain fell in earnest. 

An hour or more passed and her muscles ached terribly and the cold cut deeply into her as the morning broke. She was one of twelve girls being offered that year and Theia could not resist comparing her beauty to that of the others. 

Most had the look of foreigners, girls captured in the never-ending wars and bound into slavery. They cowered on the podium, filled with fear of being subjected to a fate they did not understand. 

A few others, like Theia, understood the honor they would gain by being Chosen, and looked toward the dawn with hope. These few would be the ones Theia would be judged against, and she steeled herself against the cold, holding her head high, desiring more than anything to prove herself worthy. 

As the sun rose, the rain became a slow drizzle. Theia struggled with all her will to combat the paralyzing chill that settled into her body. Her thin clothing was soaked and clung to her lithe body like a second skin. She was well aware of how she was displayed in front of the gathering crowd, and she sat upright and proud, making no attempt to cover herself from their gaze. 

Her breasts were firm and proud under the nearly transparent linen and her nipples protruded thickly in the cold air. Her robe clung tightly, outlining to the growing crowd the slim shape of her hips and the perfect rise of her bottom. She saw how the men leered at her, and she was pleased when she heard a man place a bet that she would be among the Chosen. 

Theia mused that it must have been a strange and humiliating experience to those unlucky foreign girls who had recently been enslaved. Feeling shame for any of this seemed impossible to her. In her mind, she was already an acolyte of the Goddess of Pleasure, and being able to arouse these men was the very purpose of her existence. 

The murmur of the crowd had grown louder with the dawn, but when the Inner Temple doors swung open, the crowd silenced. Bronze horns sounded as three Priests came through the doors. Then, to a slow, pounding beat of drums, the Priests began the long walk down the causeway toward the podium. 

They wore fresh, brightly-colored scarlet robes and their shaved heads clearly identified them as Priests of the Goddess. The first of the three to reach the podium surveyed the twelve girls. As Theia expected, he ignored the frightened, cowering foreigners, and went up to a beautiful, olive-skinned girl with even longer hair than hers. 

Like Theia, she was chained to the stone, but sat with legs curled under her, as if she were sitting on a thick cushion rather than the icy stones. When the young Priest approached, she shifted her posture seductively, her body moving with a cat-like grace that all but invited him to ravish her right there in front of the crowd. He stood before her and fondled her breasts through her robe and smiled in approval as she bent low and kissed his feet in supplication. 

The Priest knelt down and, without a word, unlatched the shackles on her wrists. Taking her hands in his, he drew her up to her feet and the crowd cheered wildly as the first Choice was made. 

Theia marveled at the girl's performance, but also realized that only two chances remained. She felt a sharp pang of jealousy, and a worrisome tingle of doubt began gnawing at her empty belly. In all of her dreams of this moment, Theia had never foreseen the possibility of having such a beautiful and seductive rival. When the second Priest walked by without a glance at her and Chose another, Theia’s hands begin to tremble. The gnawing doubt grew into a terrifying fear. 

As the third and final Priest walked up the steps, Theia could not bear to watch. Her gaze was aimed low, but she kept her back straight, hoping to display the proper mix of confidence and sexuality that would catch his attention. Her heart beat wildly and she struggled to suppress the tremble that suddenly threatened to spread over her entire body. 

The moment seemed to last forever and Theia‘s nerve was near breaking point. So inwardly had she focused that she was actually surprised when the Priest placed a hand under her chin and raised her head. His eyes were like dark, fiery pools and she felt his gaze bore straight into her heart. "Tell me, girl, what is your name?"

To Theia, his voice seemed as clear and pure as the morning dew. "I am Antheia, my Lord," she replied. "Though I am usually called Theia, if it pleases you."

He was young and very handsome, and when he smiled, Theia felt her heart leap in her chest. He couldn't have been more than a year or two older than her, and Theia felt certain she’d never seen a more beautiful man.

"Your beauty is as ethereal as your name suggests. Theia it is, then,” he said. "I am Laertes, and it shall be my honor to lead you into the service of Aphrodite.” 

Joyful relief and gratitude filled Theia‘s heart as he removed her shackles and she threw herself at his feet. Tears flowed freely down her face and she struggled to thank him, her voice failing as she was overcome by the sudden release of her pent-up emotions. 

Laertes helped her to stand and raised her hand to the roaring jubilation of the crowd. She held his hands tightly in hers and kissed them both in gratitude. "Thank you, Holiness. I can never repay you this great kindness.”

Laertes wiped tears from her face, but looked almost saddened as he responded. "Do not thank me, young one. You may yet wish I'd Chosen another." 

Theia was too emotional to truly consider his words, and as she followed him back up the causeway toward the Inner Temple, she was certain that it was the happiest moment of her life. 

Approaching the doors, she heard her name being called. She scanned the crowd and, just before she passed through, she saw her mother and father waving to her, beaming with pride.



Authors note. I want to thank JWren for his excellent editing work. He brings out the best of my work without losing what makes it mine. I am indebted to him for his professionalism and his generosity with his time. 


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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