That is a point. If she is paying the bills, will she be my client instead of Dawes? No, the contract is between the company and him, and the company ...oesn’t care how they get paid, as long as they are paid; so no change.I was in my pantry an hour later, polishing the household silver, when there was a tap at the door. Miss Catherine was standing there, looking anxious. She asked me, “Why do you spend so much time polishing the silver?”“If it is not done regularly, Miss Catherine, the tarnish. I've seen a boner before. But we can cure that." What do you mean," I asked."Well, we can just wait a while. I'm sure it'll go down if we just give it some time." She hesitated. "Or..." Or?" I said."Or we can just whap Mister Wiggle there with a rolled up newspaper or something. At least I won't be worried that you're going to rip the material." Oh," I said, involuntarily pulling my pelvis back. "I thought maybe there would be some other alternative..." I trailed off."No," she said. "Remember. I could feel him move forward onto the bed, one hand pushing down on the small of my back, the other guiding his thick mushroom head into the crack of my ass. He worked it up and down between my cheeks before piercing the head down into my hole. At first I thought he was going to work it in nice and slow, letting my hole stretch around the shaft, but when it felt like a couple of inches were in, he suddenly lunged forward driving the entire 8 inches as far as he could get it. The sharp pain ran. ” “Shit,” I muttered, coming awake. “What is it?” Mary muttered. There was a booming crash and splintering wood coming from below, echoing through the house. Heavy boots pounded through the house and men shouted loudly. The boots were stomping up the stairs. Sluts started crying out in fear as doors crashed open. Fear coursed cold through my veins as I struggled to get out of the bed. The blankets were tangled about my legs and I fell off the bed, landing hard on my side. “Mark!” Mary shouted..