Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She was only half lying, right? She was with a buddy from work. Kristy sighed deeply, once again pushing the guilt aside. She...got out of her car and walked inside. The bar itself wasn’t that busy for a Sunday night, but the back room was hopping. Kristy assumed it was a football game due to the yelling and number of f-bombs she was hearing. She continued walking down a long hallway to the bar where she found Tony sitting at the end, nursing a Jack on the rocks. She. There is displeasure in her voice, but no accusation. It is more like she is just generally angry that her attempt to hide herself away has failed than she is at him for finding her.“The transfer of this property to you from your grandparents in on file,” he answers and then explains, “I paid someone to tell me if they could find anything attached to you. This and the post office box came up, but that is all.”“I guess I should have been more careful,” she murmurs more to herself than him.. At that very moment, Lira whirled the strap over her head and struck a blow across Jon's ass leaving a light pink mark. Jon cried out, but his cry was muffled by the next stroke, which landed harder on both of his asscheeks. The pain was intense and Jon's screams were trapped deep in his throat. Lira followed with a flurry of strokes, alternating on Jon's asscheeks.After the twentieth stroke to each cheek, she paused to pour a cool glass of refreshing wine. Red and purple strap marks covered. There was ample evidence of the game she and Ward had played there, with confused foot and body prints churning up the sand around the middle of the space. The stakes and crossbar were chillingly obvious, and Myra saw that they dominated Bonnie's attention."Looks like you got it ready for me," Bonnie remarked tightly. "Seeing as how I'm it."Myra tensed; she heard the antagonism in her hostess' voice and wondered if Bonnie were working herself up to calling a halt to the whole experiment. But.