30pm. The place was only half full. Most of the patrons were teenagers, half full of cheap grog and a few of old perverts ogling the young bodies. Mon...que was different. Early forties, almost 6’ tall (179 cm), 34d breasts. Her legs seemed to go forever, ending with a miniskirt, which was exposing the most exiting part of her thighs and arse every time she made a sudden move. We made our way up the stairs, collecting some wolf whistles and rude comments from the young guys sitting on the steps.. Satisfied that he still had the sense of touch, he droppedhis hands and simply stared, his new eyes flickering across the featuresof his face.In a moment of doubt he dropped the mirror on the table in front of himand took out his camera phone, checking to make sure that the trick wasnot in the reflection rather than the object. The digital image staringback at him professed the same truth. The technology was real. He wastransformed.Finally, fully five minutes from the completion of the process,. She stood up, lookedat me and said, "You've just been hogtied mother fucker, now try to getout it you worthless piece of shit."She walked down the hall leaving me absolutely helpless. I closed my eyesand prayed that she wouldn't leave me like this very long. I couldn'tbudge. I must have been there for half an hour when she came back to theliving room and said, "You're not on the couch. I hope Mommy's little girlisn't tied up too tight. That would be bad because Mommy has no intentionof untying. "So, how's your husband doing? He was starting a business, wasn't he?"Fiona's face fell, to be replaced by anger and suspicion. Rebecca could see immediately she'd put her foot in it. "That's not very funny, Rebecca!" she told her, coldly.Rebecca looked at Bradley, who was shrugging and cautioning her with his eyes. "Um, is there..." she began. "Has something happened?" You don't know?" Fiona asked."What?" Robert left me last year for a Russian girl he'd been meeting on the Internet. 25, she.