She scanned this smaller group.“Developed their own film?”One blonde girl’s hand was left in the air.“Show their work in a gallery?”The last...hand lowered and everyone tittered.“I always hope that one day someone will still have their hand up,” the diminutive woman said, smiling warmly at us as she let go of the formalities. “Welcome. My name is Ms. Rawlings. You may call me that, or Jane. As you wish. I’m rather informal, at least down here in the basement.”I liked Jane already. Or was it Ms.. It was obviously something the older man had rehearsed, probably line-by-line with his mother. Simon felt guilty once more, realising that he'd upset his mother by his boorish behaviour at home, and resolved not to let his mood darken that way so much.Of course, it wasn't that easy. Over the next weeks he'd still sometimes turn bad-tempered or morose, particularly after a night out on the booze, or after what he heard John calling a 'bad day at the office'. This would be especially true if. He could see she was riding a wave of orgasms... he lifted the earflap so he could talk to her, he said " enjoy slave, I will be back in an hour." she protested and shook her head, pleading with him, but the gag in her mouth shut her up, so he didnt have to listen to it. After an hour, the drugs were starting to wear off... but they were still effective, effective enough that he decided while she was in such orgasmic bliss, now would be a good time to pierce her nipples. They were still sucked. Don’t move.’ Robert got a couple of hard pillows from the living room and stacked them on the bed. Tricia clasped her hands in front of her chest in anticipation and worry as she watched him. ‘I’m going to do this to you every time you drink. You’ll need to get used to it. Or, you can get dressed and leave.’ Robert tapped the pillows and motioned his crying wife to lie across them, her bottom in high the air. She started to cry louder when he wrapped her wrists in the leather cuffs and hooked.