My cheeks were like tomatoes, I realized. Her hands moved my wrists away from my back, onto her butt. It was as if my hands were somebody else’s, as...I couldn’t understand that all this happened to me.'Not just the sunmilk', she said and pulled her buttocks apart, using both her hands. 'Your sister got so much hair too, Jamyjamy?', she giggled and, pushing her butt up a bit 'you see those moist lips below all that hair Jamy?'... I stopped creaming, mechanically. Speechless, still, I just looked. Squeals from each strike she pants and tosses arching her back and wiggling her feet, unknowingly I shove a pillow under her back the ropes tighten as she finds she is more restricted. I speak softly “oh baby your skin is so soft and ready for my thoughts to be reality” as she squirms my cool fingers tracing her ribs my other hand reaching for something from a nearby table. A loud grunt and jerk as her areole’s get the pinch of a clamp then my hand holds them firmly, she tries to lift but I. Wedon't believe in breaking a man's spirit, or in destroying hisindividuality. We merely want to modify his persona, soften it if youwill. From what I've heard and seen, you appear bent on reducing Bob toa robotone, eliminating his personality completely and replacing it withone of your construct. Let me ask, was he that bad a person and husbandthat he deserves to have his personality erased?" Heavens, no, he is a caring person, a poor lover perhaps, but he wasnever bad to me. It is just. Strangely, the fear that had consumed me before did not cross my mindas I drove into the parking lot.I locked the car and walked to the door, showed Walter, the guard myphony ID and walked in. It was no longer a maybe, and I walked into theoffice and straight to my desk, and the first thing I saw was thenameplate. 'Diane M. Grant' etched in white on a blue backgroundsitting on my desk! I stashed my purse in my desk and went to get acoffee, returning just as Valerie walked in. She took one look.