‘Can we go eat now?’ Reno fumed, twisting his neck in his collar. The lack of sleep and not having food since lunchtime yesterday was really getti...g to him. Rude held his hand to the doorway. ‘After you, Sir.’ He bowed deeply, doubling over more in laughter than in genuflection. ‘Eh, stuffit.’ He walked through the doorway and down the hall to the elevators. Punching the button, Reno was already regretting his decision. He had to be in this getup all day long. It was going to kill him, he was. So I just rolled over and relaxed and then dozed off again. The next time I awoke Biff was back in the bed with me sound asleep. Joannie and Jerry were stirring in their bed. I decided to take a shower and was followed by Joannie and Jerry. The three of us dressed and left Biff sleeping as we tried to make breakfast before they closed the buffet. We made it in time and I suggested that we bring something back to the room for Biff. Joannie held up a banana and said, "How about this? I could let. Steve laughed. “So am I,” he replied, “but you know and I know . . .” I didn’t let him finish his statement. I ripped open my white shirt, the buttons popping off the fabric and bouncing off the coffee table, spinning as they hit the hardwood floor. Both of us watched as one of the buttons spun in a circle and came to rest against a leg of the coffee table. I sat up and grabbed him by his head, shoving my tongue into his mouth and down his throat. I was not going to be denied. Steve slipped. As, however, she had begun straightening herself, yanking up her knickers, Dr. Stanton had had a final glimpse of her now striped bottom. This apparently provoked a disconcerting thought, which materialized in his mind even as the girl closed the door behind her. Was it not an exceedingly strange, almost bizarre practice, this inflicting of painful bruises upon a young woman's posterior? Who had first thought of doing it, and how had the practice become so well established? As he puzzled over.