The first foot massage I ever gave was to my aunt Elizabeth, who went by Liz. I remember it well. Liz was a hairstylist and she spent long hours on her feet, working hard as a single mother to my two cousins, Brad and Christie. I really respected her for her financial independence, as opposed to my other two aunts who expected to have everything handed to them.

Hi, you seem very interested in female members of your family. Perhaps it's just a phase of hypersexuality combined with some poor judgement? Perhaps if you consider what your father and mother would think of you if you ever acted on your desires, you will not do something that will cause a family rift. Hmmmph… mmm? MMMMPPHH!” She made more noise and wiggled around. Her eyes opened, and then her body completely tensed up and her head was lifted up. She was awake. She pulled hard against the bonds with great strength and was going to yell into her gag. She was trying to lift her head by pulling on her wrist bonds. The next time she asked for some help round the house I said I was busy, but then she rang my mum one day saying she had problems with her electrics and asked if I could go over and look at the fuse box. The theory behind cuddle therapy is that people feel increasingly isolated and disconnected. Many were raised in families where platonic touching was uncommon and suffer from "touch deprivation." Happy birthday to my phenomenal aunt! You’re always such a joy to be around, and I’m so thankful to have you in my life.

I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. Happy birthday, aunt. Do you know that your unfailing love and optimism gives me hope for the best to come true? I know that you will continue to succeed in all you do. Lots of love today and always. Wishing you happiness and love on your birthday, my aunt, and teacher. You have taught me the everyday responsibilities of life, and you’ve shown me that the little things do matter. Have a great birthday.

Wishing the happiest birthday to my caring, devoted aunt. You’re always there with a sympathetic ear and a cup of coffee. I am so grateful to be your niece/nephew!People still flew around in silver Constellations in those days. Everything in America looked big, beautiful, full of hope and dreams. I parked my incredible new car as close to the runway as the law allowed, watched the gleaming airplane taxi, race its engines and take off towards the sunset. I waved at the porthole I thought might be filled by Aunt Doris’s face. I stayed on the runway till dark. However, many people have been defending her saying the child's behavior is totally natural, and that her response was heartwarming. Still, as the months wore on, my eventual return to Hartsdale loomed. In early August, I passed my summer-school exams, which meant that I was eligible to return to Hartsdale for ninth grade. But Aunt Lil knew that it was best to keep me in New York City. Whatever progress we had made would be lost once I returned home. With less than a month before school began, she resolved to get me admitted to the city’s High School of Music and Art. Applicants were required to take a drawing test and provide a portfolio of art. It was highly competitive, but it hardly mattered, because admissions for the coming fall had ended months before. Aunt Lil persisted, and in mid-August we received word that the High School of Music and Art was administering a special, off-season entrance exam to a handful of kids—and that I was among them. For me (and so many other women), it took paying for a sensual massage to finally believe that we’re all truly deserving of more than the status quo—in and out of bed.