" Tell me about the fantasy? I asked.She hesitated and then said: "It wasn't like what happened last night at all. In my fantasy of how I would lose i..., I was dressed in a beautiful white gown, on a huge white bed and my master was the one who was going to make love to me and he had all kinds of men who were just wearing robes and they could just look at me, but they couldn't touch me. My master would make beautiful love to me and the other men would get so excited they would play with. My underling finally looked up from the file, and I must have succeeded, because he did not give any indication that he thought something was up, so to speak. He merely nodded a greeting and commenced some diatribe about shipping costs or some such nonsense. I had a terrible time trying to concentrate, what with Allison on her knees under my desk. I hadn't given enough forethought to that particular fantasy, and so I suffered the consequences. I was just starting to figure out what Randy was. I signed my name to the program consent form. I figured my main reason for not wanting to do it in the first place was because I was afraid that someone would discover my secret. Now that it was out in the open I reasoned that the only way I could truly relax and try to enjoy my remaining time within the program was if I no longer felt it was being forced upon me. Although I knew that I really didn't have a choice one way or another, unless of course I did blackmail Mrs. Morris, I figured that. . It had been her senior year in high school, in March, near the end of both the basketball and gymnastics seasons."Come on, Dick, lemme have some more beer," Cynthia urged, reaching for the can."Ah-ah-ah, no you don't, not right now," Dick replied, holding the can out of reach in his left hand while he steered the convertible with his right."Gimme!" Cynthia demanded, leaning across, making a dive for the beer. The car slewed wildly to the wrong side of the road.Judy felt Sam's arm tighten.