Uhh ... not as active as you used to be in the church.”“I’ll lead the prayer meeting next Wednesday. Promise. I love you.” It was not entirely...a lie. Her husband was not a bad man — but he was sedentary and unimaginative. She would have gone mad had she not found a way to carve out a slice of independence.“I love you too, Maggie.”*She bought a guidebook and read about Greece. It sounded enchanting and she was truly interested in Paul and his travels two thousand years earlier to promulgate the. She did as told, and spread her feet far apart, hoping to dear god he didn’t strike her there again, in her now burning hot folds.She suddenly felt his strong hands on her calves and the cool metal of one of the iron spreader bars encircled her trembling ankles. One at a time he placed the looped ends around her trembling ankles. Her stance was almost as wide as it could go, without collapsing.As he locked the last ankle restraint tight around her slim ankle, she felt his large strong hand run. Whitfield's appearance stunned me. Her long hair, which I'd only seen braided and on her head, lay around her in lascivious disarray. She wore a slave's simple cotton dress, but the way she wore it was completely different than any slave, for they wore it to their ankles and loose to allow movement as they worked. In comparison, Mrs. Whitfield's dress was many sizes too small, falling only to below her knees and fitting tightly over her womanly curves to overtly flaunt them. And she was. “Since I’m going to be rubbing my tits in your fur, I suppose we should be introduced. My name is Christine Wulf. My husband, John, is Minister of Finance of the Czech Republic, if you can believe it.”“But I don’t understand,” Jason asked, obviously very puzzled. “What is the wife of such an important man doing here? Dressed the way you are?”“Undressed the way I am is what you mean, Jason,” Christy replied with a grimace, “and it’s a very good question. I’m trying to save my marriage, and so.