Iwas to put on a good act or as usual, suffer punishment after theaudience left. This was to be just a part of the show; as before I wouldbe suspended...and raped by any and all; forced to kneel and suck for anyand all.For Sunday they had me dress somewhat differently. They had me wear thighhigh stockings and they put ballet boots on me, knee length, and lacedthem up, putting metal locking bands on my ankles. I wore panties and braand my punishment collar. I knew then that if I misbehaved during. I don’t know if I should give it to you in the office… want me to bring it by your house?I’m giddy like a school girl (I wonder if you are into that sort of thing? I think I would definitely dress up in a different kind of skirt and blouse for you). I’m trying to not get ahead of myself. It could just be alcohol or something that would be nice or funny but not really professional. But it could also be your cock that I’ve wanted for so long.Husband won’t be home from work until six, so…Just. I was amazed at how few hoops I actually had to jump through to collect my credit advance. I was expecting loads of paperwork, a set of fingerprints or even a retina scan, but all I had to do was smile and show my ID and give my reservation and casino account number and sign an illegible scrawl to the receipt they put in front of me. I wore one of Joel's old USC college jackets, a wig that matched his hair color and covered it with a ball cap and a pair of Joel's aviator sunglasses. I did my. “Oops. Sorry. Door was open, so I let myself in." Marco said.Marco was a fit young Italian guy from two doors down. He worked nights at Tops Bakery, making the next day’s bread. His wife, a paralegal at Jimms, Tale & Wesseley. Marco was of average height, with a swimmer’s build. Black hair and blue eyes. Full firm lips. Sicilian.He was wearing black boots, tight bell-bottom jeans, and a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled high on his arms.'This guy looks like he just stepped off Ellis Island,'.