Over the following days and weeks, during which I was given menial tasks and responsibilities, my condition improved and when I saw myself in one of t...e fine mirrors of her household I saw a new woman. I never left her employ after that. Mistress Pickles’ house was, I was to discover, a salon for ladies who, like me and Mrs Pickles herself, favoured the sexual intimacy of other women. No doubt my Mistress was aware of my similar proclivities or, were she not, she soon came to be. I attended. One of us is going to get hurt, maybe two of us, or most likely, all three of us.”“Should the three of us talk about that together?” I asked.“Probably. What about after the party on Saturday?”“Yeah. We can do that. I’m heading back to Chicago on Sunday morning, so we’ll make Saturday night special!” I grinned.“Yes,” she smiled. “Now, about Jennifer.”“What about her?”“Your comment earlier about emotionally abusing girls. You HAD to be thinking about Jennifer, and maybe Bethany.”“Yes, and Melanie. I was eating Skittles then, and she told me that she wanted to eat them off of me. I smiled, thinking of what her reaction to receiving these would be. Probably a laugh or a smile would be her reaction. She seemed to have the same sense of humor as me and I thought that it would probably lighten up the mood a bit when I did meet her. The week went by slowly, I think because I wanted it to go faster. Friday came finally and I received a phone call from Mari. She said that she was in the. Then to her husband, "apologize to your daughter for hitting her. You should have given them a chance to explain why they were late."Seeing that Ollie was not inclined to apologize Rosita ended the meeting, ushering us out of the room into the entrance way.Ollie was heading down the long hall towards the rear of the house as the rest of us said our goodbyes. Rosita and Petri were steering Huley to the stairway when I said, "Goodnight Tess, I'll call you tomorrow."Ollie turned when he heard me.