She handed me the register receipt and I promptly wadded it up and tossed it in the trash can by the register.Christine came out of the dressing room,...her older, well-worn leather jacket in one hand and wearing her new accouterment.“What do you think?” she asked, extending her arms, as she clutched on to her older jacket.“Turn around,” I said. She slowly turned around and then faced me.“Nice ass,” I said, proffering a wink.‘A cheesy ass,” she replied. “I need to lose a few pounds.”“it looks. This young, upper class, English girl turned up at the house and introduced herself as Beth. She was pleasant enough and had a determined smile, but I'm not sure whether she saw me as a client or as some sort of sub to be kept on my toes. Something about the way she said things. Maybe that's unfair: probably it was just the way I was hearing things then.We went through the planner in Katya's training diary. I found myself worrying about her, hoping she was ok, worrying about what they were. More

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