I turned the latch and the knob, and gently pulled the door open. No problems there. I poked my head out, and looked left and right. No people were in...sight, and it looked just like a hotel hallway. No guards or nurse stations or anything like that. I looked at my door before withdrawing my head, and there was a small plastic plate on the door: "417".I stepped back in and let the door close with a gentle 'snufft'. I paused a bit at that. It didn't sound like any door closing noise I'd ever. I always feel better after a good ride, so I triedto make this one last as long as possible. I didn't want to get off thebike and think about a life trapped in lingerie and dresses, periodsand cold toilet seats. I wanted to stay in the warm saddle of my bikeforever. But with my practice nearing a close and with a deep sigh, Ifinished up a few crucial, well-ridden laps and pulled off into thepits. I knew this track like the back of my hand. The only questionthat remained was, could I get. Christine was twenty-four years and was often teased by her friends andfamily about never having grown out of her tomboy phase. She alwaysdressed in clothes that were loose and baggy, designed not to show offher attractive body, but for comfort instead. Her nails where short andragged due to her habit of biting them when thinking, her shoulderlength brown hair was always just pulled back into a pony tail since itwas simple and easy, and she never bothered wearing any makeup at all.After. From now on I'll call the shots. That spare room you slept in last night is going to be permanent. I'm tired of being frustrated while you have orgasms. From now on you'll masturbate and only when I give you permission"Jim started to object"Shut the fuck up and listen to me or I'll have your ass thrown out of the house and get a divorce. Just do as your told. I want the house spotless when I get home. Do you understand Me. We'll talk more about this when I get home"I hung up before he could.