I applied them to my own sore joint, and decided it was a sprain, and that I’d probably live. The palms of my hands were also a mess, but I knew the...’d heal in no time. My dress, however, was not so lucky. I’d had plenty of opportunities to learn how to get blood out of clothes (it’s an occupational hazard), and I knew that the dress was beyond redemption. I also had blood all over my face and hands, and it was starting to crust in my hair. If you’ve ever smelled clotted blood, you know that it. "'I tell you what. How about I make you feel like a real man again?' I offered. "'Sure.' "I promised you that I wouldn't be to explicit but I have to give you some taste. He led me upstairs to bed and we rapidly stripped off. None of the gentle but erotic undressing you and I do by the way. "As his womanly arms began to stroke the curve of my spine my hands gently began to explore his firm, womanly ass. My hands traced the delicate curves of his body and I half expected. " "Look, it was your bloody idea!" Kitty said pointedly."Not working in a damned brothel wasn't!" he replied."And if I hadn't?" she snapped, "You would have lost your job!" I'm finished anyway," he said, "When the opposition gets going!" Really?" Kitty sneered, "When the leader's daughter is doing an outside engagement for a stag do in Pimlico as we speak, I think "How the hell do you know?" he demanded."I arranged it," she admitted, "You would be amazed what the average druggie will do for a. The realtor had given me directions, but she was unable to get there straight away, possibly wouldn’t arrive for at least another hour; some family emergency, or other.The utilities had long been off, the bills had been unpaid; but no one had bothered checking up on the two women staying in the house.The mother, Helen, didn’t even own a car, she didn’t have her licence. Neither did she work. Cindy, her daughter, had not attended school in quite a while. They were both looking very malnourished;.