There was nothing in her stomach but piss and water, but she quickly brought all of it up and then spent another 15 minutes dry retching.Cadence wasn'... stupid. Her reaction might just have been because of how long it had been since she'd had water and how quickly she'd drunk it - but she rightly suspected the water had been poisoned. She was being conditioned. She was being taught that drinking piss made her feel good, and that drinking anything else made her feel unhappy and sick. If this. .. and a glass of Prosecco later I took in my surroundings. There was quite a crowd. A beautiful room. The fedora hat was some distance away, busy working the room. So this was Jenneke Janssen herself. She saw me and smiled. She turned to someone at her side and whispered something. The ‘someone’ came towards me. If there’s one thing that the Dutch excel at, it’s being tall. ‘Someone’ was wearing a classic Little Black Dress, well above the knee. Now, I am not badly served in the leg department. On the table is a champagne bucket, the neck of a freshly opened bottle visible, sheened with condensation and two flutes. Another envelope rests against the bucket. Again eager to read the note you tear open the envelope. ‘Pour yourself a glass of champagne. Take off your clothes. The bath’s ready. I won’t be long.’ Carefully you fill a glass. A smile forms on your lips as you sensuously take your first sip wondering what is to come. You take in the elegance of the suite. The sitting room. Recognising those were high quality she wished for a moment she could afford one ensemble like that. ‘Come.’ he said again and led her unexpectedly into the store. A greying man and lady appeared a moment later, smiling brightly at Jean-Marie. ‘Jean-Marie! How good to see you again.’ the man said. ‘Hilda, Franz. How are you doing?’ Jean-Marie said as the elder couple gave him a hug. Isabelle thought she could have guessed their names with the light but obvious German accent. ‘Good, even at our.