She shows me the image before her and tries to explain.“The goddamn signature, the end of it, runs right across the state seal,” she says. I do no... understand, but she shows me what she tries to do. “If I replace it, it’ll show,” she says, and I see that if she uses the image of the drawing she has done instead of the image that is already there, a part of what is behind will be hidden.“It’s not much more than the flourish,” she says. “Thank God my handwriting’s so lousy. But I’ll have to use. "No, take it off out here so the yellow jackets won't be in the house," I told her. "I can't, you will see me." I said, look, I am 55 years old and have seen several naked women. Take the damn dress off so you won't get stung any more." Finally she did, and was I shocked to see that she was not wearing underwear–no panties, no bra. But I could see the stings, already swelling. It looked like she had dozens of stings.I followed her in the house and said, get on the table and I will try to. There were a lot of them.I tried to halt the display, but nothing worked. Until finally the messagereappeared. With one chilling addition:"You have been sanctioned by RAMS. Choose your punishment, Mario."How the fuck did they know my name? A small knot of anxiety formed in mygut as I realised this might be serious. I had heard about computers beingseized by hackers, using - what did they call it? Ransomware, that was it.If whoever was doing this knew my name, then they really must have. .a skirt is hiked up over your hips and YOU are tuggng a little pair of panties out from your crotch, you've begun grinding against them with your pussy...while this horrible man, your landlord, is kneeling in front of you before the desk, taking digital pictures of the show you're putting on.The last half hour has indeed been strange."Now pull them aside..." the camera lens is 12 inches from your pussy, and you slowly slide the taut fabric to one side, first one side then the other of your.