Mistress untethers my leash and pulls me upright by my hair. "Now we have to make you nice and pretty," she says cheerfully. Choosing a lipstick from ... nearby shelf, she paints a thick O in lurid red over my gaping lips. She applies the lipstick to my nipples and writes across my chest with it. In the mirror I read the large letters backwards: SLUT. Mistress pulls my panties back up to my waist, smoothing the satin and primping the bows and ruffles with such elaborate care that my erection. Some might have described her as quite plain but Jack always looked beyond the outward appearance. His years in the business had taught him a lot about people and their sexuality. He often compared his customers to icebergs; very little on the surface but such a lot hidden beneath. He saw the vicar’s wife as very sexually repressed. He could just imagine her and her husband slipping into bed under the cover of darkness, a few touches, a few kisses and then a few minutes of a good old. With a big smile, he said, “Glad to meet you Four. I’m Rory.”He held out his hand to her, but she didn’t take it.“Four, I have to get you and your mom out of the car and into the tractor. From there I’m going to take you somewhere so you can get some food and rest. I will come back and get your car after I have you two settled in. Is that ok?”Four stared at him for what seemed like a long time.Rory was about to try again when she finally spoke, “Mommy’s very tired. She needs to sleep.”Rory. “Trying to avoid me, love?” he said, a distinct twinkle in his eye. She responded by staring down into her coffee, studying the plastic lid with an intensity usually reserved for examining patients. She said nothing, but her body was already betraying her distinct pleasure at his presence. Pupils dilating, her breathing coming now in irregular gulps, her skin flushed to her fingertips. Fuck. She wanted to take him home, take him into her bedroom, finish what they had started so many months ago..