You are pristine, elegant, ascendant, as you straddle a chubby, older and naked man that sits upon the edge of a stained hotel mattress, his legs spread.

His sweaty chest to yours, his breasts -smaller than his - roll upward against him as his thighs tense and his hips thrust upward. He mumbles something, mouth hidden by his grey, tobacco stained beard as his hands each clamp upon your narrow waist, holding you low and still before driving his member deeper into his "cheap toy" and her "dirty Asian cunt".

Your body bounces and grinds atop him with a feigned enthusiasm, your thighs revealing every lithe curve and muscle as they tense and squeeze against him. Your arms, glinting beneath a buzzing, uncovered lightbulb on the ceiling above, reach backwards, your sticky hands straining to maintain their uncertain grasp on your ankles behind you, your feet resting on his knees.

Your left foot still sports a cheap open-toed pump, but your right is bare, leaving your painted toenails to point toward the floor.

The other rests sideways on the bed, next to "Dah-ddy".

He asks what his little whore would do for a hundred extra dollars.

"Anything I tell you to," he mocks before you've a chance to respond.

"Say it. 'Anything you tell me to, Daddy'" he grunts.

Another thrust, fueled by contempt and Viagra, before he twists and throws you onto the bed beside him. He climbs on top of you and grabs your thighs, puts your knees over his shoulders.

Your feet bounce listlessly at his back while his hips pop forward and back, and... Suddenly, he's groaning, spilling himself inside of your unprotected pussy.

Minutes later, he's gone, having left a few $100 bills on the bed.

But, as you open one bill,  his yellow-tinged sperm still spurting from between your legs, staining the bed.... you realise it's not real money.

They're all just pieces of green paper, made to look like cash - and on the inside they read, "Jesus Christ is the only path for Salvation.

His semen swirls outward from the throat of your cervix like milk, tinged yellow with fat, expanding in water. Like a cloud, it grows and thickens and moves as though directed, expanding outwards until the mass reaches the slender mouths of your fallopian tubes.

*They are weak, unhealthy, weighed down by the unhealthy lifestyle of their producer. So many have now been left behind, but millions of his sperm yet remain, coalescing at the passages to your ovaries - half at each, before continuing their journey onward. *

First at the starting line; jostling, fighting, pushing the weakest and the less worthy aside.

Then - soon - deeper, a quarter way through your fallopian tube now. Hundreds of thousands of sperm are leading, each determined to be the one, as the rest struggle to catch up.

Soon, now halfway, the lead widens, a string of the strongest two hundred thousand of your mate's gametes trudge deeper through the passage, single mindedly surging towards their prize.

Three quarters, now. The strongest have nearly reached your ovaries, but they too have slowed. Weakened and far from virile, they yet creep along, shuddering like a coughing smoker....

It would be a while yet before you knew. Of the innumerable sperm that pig man had spilt within you, few were healthy enough to even make the trip. Fewer still survived the contest for your ovum, and less than one hundred remained to try and fertilize it.

And yet, unworthy as his genetic material was, your ovum submitted to it anyway. Just as you had submitted to this man, your egg had surrendered its incalculable value to the deformed head of a dying sperm cell. Soon the single, roiling cell is in stasis within your right fallopian tube, and soon it would break; split into new cells. Soon, they would become four and then eight and then sixteen and then... Eventually, your embryo would make its way down the dark tube passage, happily floating past the warzone where so many of the father's seeds had died. The budding zygote would find your womb, and find it all too ready to nurture the tiny bundle of cells into something more. But you would feel none of it. Yet.

The soft pink walls of your uterus would ache a few days later when the embryo attached itself, burrowed deep into the blood-rich uterine wall. It would nestle in safely, growing already, but still, you would not know. Not for another week or two, until your evening hunger was insatiable and your bag-eyed mornings found you kneeling and bent before the toilet. Then - then- you would know.