" Bridget stammered out, her face scarlet. "I don't know..." Please," Courtney said. "I promise I won't be mad, and I promise you'll love it." I can't...kiss your hus..." Bridget insisted just as Matt took her in his arms and gently pressed his lips to hers."Mmm, I canmmm," Bridget tried, her hands lifting out from her sides and slowly waving around as she struggled with what to do with them as he kissed her, but Matt held her tighter and moved his mouth a little on hers, nipping gently on her. "What do you say slut?" he asked."You complete bastard," I spat at him.He took his belt off and whipped my ass over 10 times."Every time you cross me you will be punished and the punishments willonly get worse you tart, now what do you say," he asked again."Thank you Master," I mumbled.Sorry cant hear you," he shouted, and then whipped me again, this timeover 20 times. The agony and pain was unbelievable."Again slut, what do you say?" Thank you master," I replied."Better," he said.He left the. Not exactly.The last life the State Library burned ... kinda. There was more damage done by the fire department than by the fire. Books ... especially books printed from 1850 on were printed on acid paper. It's cheaper. So what if the books yellow on the edges and turn grey in the middle. Does it really matter that wet acid paper books get a little pulpy. Not to the book sellers ... just to the readers.But I love the smell of books in the library. I love the feel of real ink on a page. I expect. It started on a Monday in September fifteen years ago. It happened to be the day after my forty-second birthday—unmarked and uncelebrated.Don’t feel sorry. I just don’t do birthdays. I’d spent the weekend like any other weekend, hiking, socializing, and trying to get laid. A birthday could only be significant in that it helped me achieve one of the other three. This time it hadn’t been helpful.Cynical.Yes. I suppose so. I was grouchy as a spring bear when I got to my office at Anderson Elliott.