I was waiting for a bus a couple of weeks ago when I saw the truck pull up around back, and two big bored looking guys started pulling out some of the...finest computers and electronics I’d ever seen. I moved to the lobby doors to smoke a cigarette and saw them lugging the stuff up the staircase. Stubbing out my cig, I walked in and looked at the stairwell door. Never locks. Good. I got in the elevator and hit each of the buttons. First floor, nothing. Second, the same. Third was empty too. When. I follow the natural contours of her plump body down a little more to where the suspenders of her corset meet the black lace stockings I’ve assigned her to wear. I’ve seen her in regular nylons before, but the way the black lace mixes with the sheer fabric of her dress play exactly as they did in my head. On her feet are simple black two inch chunky heels. This is partially because she’s a bit clumsy in regular heels but more so that I may tower over her to assert my authority. Ever present is. Roger was wearing just a towel wrapped around his waist, and was holding a tube of something in his hand. ‘Helen, I’ve got a deep scratch somewhere on my back, be a luv and put some cream on for me,’ he said, ‘It really stung when I showered. I your Mums’ asleep and I don’t want to wake her up just for this.’ I was somewhat hypnotised by sight of Roger reaching back over his head to feel the abrasion. It was incredibly erotic to see his body up so close, I shook myself out of my daze as he sat. The Pujari, hindu priest was a mature man, no older than Daddi but he definitely works out. So this Pujari did his chants, blessed people & then for some reason my friends dragged me to be blessed by him. Don't know why since I was not Hindu, I never expressed interest in the hindu religion until Punjabi Daddi invited me to a nearby cement hut where the Pujari had all his candles, prayer beads & all these paintings of dieties. I met face to face with this priest & in a matter of seconds he.