. But Douglas wasn’t a prostitute, wasn’t a slave... I sat up in bed and struggled to focus. Was I Douglas dreaming I was Clarissa, or Clarissa w...o’d dreamed she was Douglas? Zhuangzi, I recalled; Chinese, third century BC. Dreamed he was a butterfly and awoke unsure whether he was Zhuangzi who’d dreamed he was a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming he was Zhuangzi.I’ve had the same dream since, more than once. I wonder whether Zhuangzi had a similar recurring dream. Or whether the butterfly did.. However, it had some serious side effects. It could, and regularly did kill people so I had worked to figure out a way to keep the loss of coherence, and the amnesia effect but not the dire side effects. I quickly migrated into obtaining scopolamine which worked similarly in high doses, but again, I ran into the horrid fact that it would kill someone. Plus I tend to prefer natural ingredients versus synthetics. They tended to do less damage to the body.I worked for a few years tweaking the. "He raised his eyebrows at that, but smiled sadly; "Peter said you were a remarkable young woman. Very well, then. Do it your way."Sunday mornings, the Diocese would send a substitute priest; they always looked out of place behind the altar, just wrong, somehow. Except Harry; Harry Banks was a retired vicar, small, with a fringe of grey hair round his bald head. Somehow, he fitted in the space left by Peter. He was quiet, and gentle, and wise; he would always come to us at the end of the. Her lips parted wider and her long angled nails dug violently into my shoulders. She gripped me firmly and then jerked her lower body into my midriff, thrusting it against my big iron cock."Monsieur. Father explained that if I came here that you'd peel off my clothes and admire my naked body and that you'd do it without shame or regret because you are a man of the dirt. He said that you'd force me to undress and that you'd rape me and he asked whether I could bear it. What a question! I thought.