"Hi," I say, "I'm Joseph" John," he replies"Look I'm sorry in case I should mind my own business, but your tattoo is fantastic." Thanks", says John. "...t took a bit of doing!" How's that?" Sore!" Oh." I had the outline drawn in one go, but the infill took a while, three or four appointments in fact. A couple of hours was all I could manage." Sounds tough." Yes, but it helps if you like the tattooist and I think they look better if you can be brave enough to be bold with the design idea." Well, I. Now my legs were spread apart and my bladder, seemingly freed from some restriction of its own, craved my attention. It was not surprising, I had been bound for nearly three hours and as Harry pulled me into a standing position, I could barely force my self upright. Harry noticed and the hated snigger returned, "Does Jenny want to do a wee wee? Poor dear, come along then, and as he started to move me I ealised that a little trickle had escaped and wet my knickers. I nearly fell and Harry had to. "Stupid fucking time differences,” she muttered, staring at the blank screen of her smartphone, referring to the fact that most of her friends from college were still in their beds back in New York, while she was stuck in England, five hours ahead in time, but years behind in many other ways. It had seemed like a great idea at the time, having just finished her senior year at college, she remembered her parents offering her the prospect of six months in England, as a gap year, while she made up. I liked when he screwed me hard in our drunkenness, when it took hours for him to get off because he had 'whiskey dick'. The next day I would look at my bruises or scratches proud of myself wearing them as badges of honor but somehow felt something was missing, knowing I was simply a piece of ass for his use. I tried using him as much as he used me but these things always get muddied up.One afternoon we met at the park near our homes walking together up the path into the woods. I was excited.