Why do you want a grand piano?’ ‘My grandson, and your intended husband, Phillip here, has decided that instead of answering the same tedious ques...ions over and over again, he will give recitals of the great works for piano by some of the greatest composers of all time.’ ‘So, along with being smart beyond measure, he is proficient on the piano?’ ‘No, he is not yet proficient. But he will be, he will be.’ ‘Can he play at all?’ ‘No, not yet, he has not yet learnt the piano.’ ‘So what sort of time. ‘Um, hey man. Can I ask you a question?’ The man he had picked out was a bit older, with short brown hair. ‘What’s up?’ ‘Why are you, um, dressed differently than most everyone else?’ ‘I could ask you the same question. I’m wearing the holster, the leather cover up, because it’s been determined that I’m ‘broken.’ That is, it’s been decided that I do not pose an escape or rebellion risk. I do what they say, I bow and kneel as called for, I have realized th-that it’s just eas-easier to do. He could feel her body tremble as the Device ran through its preprogrammed sequence. She pressed her groin against his, her hips starting an involuntary thrusting motion as his tongue touched her lips. He could feel her small firm breasts pressing against his chest and her thighs wrapping around his leg. He lowered his hands on her back, finally getting them on her perfect buttocks. They were as firm and tight as he had imagined."You've got something in your pocket," she said, pulling away. "Please," Sara begged."Please, what?" Mrs. Anderson asked."Please ma'am. May I come now?" Not yet bitch," Mrs. Anderson said. She removed her fingers from the young housewife. "What's your answer slut? Are you going to be my bitch?" Oh God," Sara groaned. "Yes - yes ma'am." I'm going to test you. You have no idea how I'll test you." Yes ma'am. Please ma'am. I need to come. I need it bad." Sara's legs trembled. She ached with need. ". . .so bad."Mrs. Anderson rolled the young woman's clit around.