“It’s ruining my hair, this weather,” she complains. Does she think I look like I care? “On your knees, bitch.” “I’ll ladder my stocking...!” “Well then walk home in unladdered stockings.” She gives me a look that speaks volumes, then drops to her knees. “Open your mouth!” I push her head back against the unforgiving metal. Rain falling, hard drops, cold. Darkness surrounds us, save for the glow that filters back from the inside and outside lights. The swish of tyres and the hum of engines. ."I haven't even done my bikini line." I don't care about your bikini line. This is art, not a Playboy shoot." The walls are echoing with the flash from the cameras, and Ellen doesn't even notice that she is being moved into some suggestive poses."Lift your left arm ... put it behind your head."Ellen obeys while Martha snaps more pictures."Good ... now another one with the other arm."Ellen is standing with her hands running up and down her luscious body, feeling how firm her breasts are. More

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