?From where I lie nestled against his hairy chest, I stare up at the shadows of the roses that he brought me earlier in the evening; they’re dancing...hypnotically on the ceiling in the scant light of a scented tea candle. H. begins to reminisce in the dark. He’s recalling the night he took me to an upscale restaurant along the shore. I was wearing an itsy-bitsy backless black mini-dress, silver heels, black thigh-highs. He tells me that as we walked up the stairs to the dining room he could see. "You don't have to join me if you don't want to."More than the fear of the unknown was Paul's fear of losing Beatrice forever."OK," he said. "If we have to ... But first let's get some clothes on." Of course, darling," said Beatrice with a slightly simpering smile.In Paul's imaginings and even more so in his exploration of virtual reality, when the heroic duo of a man and a woman entered the unknown on a hazardous mission they generally dressed in flattering tight-fitting outfits. Invariably. The same guy would call me stupid for not taking advantage of this. If all of society believes that its okay to do what Im being urged to do, then who am I to fight it and say its wrong? At that moment, I got stupid and I unzipped my pants. Before I can dig in through the zipper and bring it out, she hurls a storm of vomit all over my crotch! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! I screamed at the top of my lungs. Did this bimbo just puke on my crotch? Now my pants and. You watch over your shoulder as I tear out the seams holding the back panel of the dress, and toss the material aside, leaving your ass and thighs nicely framed by the remaining material. I step back to admire the tableau, then I remember the flogger that I was carrying. You watch as I pick it up, giving the air around you a few strokes to warm up, then I step behind you, out of your line of sight. Then silence... And more silence... one minute... two... five... *SMACK* You feel my hand across.