At the corner of the next street is an abandoned factory. The whole front of the building is open. At the back of the open workshop is a door. It's un...ocked. An open hallway is on the other side. There are three bags in the hallway, a small blue one and two large brown ones." "I'm going to have Katy run there and open the blue one,” he continued. "It has a cell phone in it with a phone number. As soon as she calls that number, I'll be there. Make sure your friends all fit in the hall. The other. 'Yeah, I know you're afraid, but don't be. I can make it not hurt. It doesn't have to hurt. So let's get to it. But remember, I can make it hurt a lot if I want to. You ready?' She'd never be ready. For some simple misguided reason, she'd thought I meant later, like some time in the (distant) future. Not right away. That's what false hope does. It delays the inevitable, or at least hopes to. 'Uh? What? What? Now? Not right now.' 'It's as good a time as any and. Shame and sadness tempered her voice. She did feel a little lighter, now that she had finished. It had been a relief to tell someone.Malcolm had sat quietly throughout, listening thoughtfully. Occasionally he had laughed with her when she remembered something funny, but otherwise, he had been uncharacteristically silent. In the past, whenever she had told him about her latest ‘date gone bad,’ he would playfully tease her about her missteps while constantly making snarky comments about the man. Susan Thompson was naked, no that wasn’t quite true. She’d opened the door fully to her friend, clad in a black lacy basque, which only real function was to hold the wide black suspenders to her black stocking tops. On her feet she wore patent leather high heels with double ankle straps. Whilst the quality wasn’t good it was clear enough that the prim and proper Susan Thompson was completely smooth between her legs and her breasts were as large, firm and completely natural as he’d ever.