"Can you tell me the camp website?" said Jack, sniffling his tears."Sure sweetie." His mother gave him the sheet of paper with campinformation."Now co...e on Jack, we have to start packing your things. The camp startsnext week."Jack wasn't as sad now, as the beginnings of a plan began to formulate inhis mind.Six days later, Jack was far calmer than he was the previous week. He hadseen the camp website, and it was as pathetic as any site he had everseen. Their brochure was professional enough, and. I stood there, imitating a statue (except for the lack of pigeons, but I felt I'd been shat upon altogether sufficiently already). She came back with a bag, which she dropped by the front door. "G-get your d-dress and g-get out!" she said. Oh. My stuff, in the bag. I flinched when she called it 'my' dress, but not even the powerful yearning within me was enough to convince me to touch the damned thing.I wanted to say something, but when she opened the door, the choice was pretty clear.. This is at least what I thought. One site attracted me most, on her homepage a mature Dominatrix in her forties claimed that as an extreme sadistic and wickedly cruel Humiliatrix she would only accept slaves who furnish her with total control without safeword. Her specialty would be interrogation role-play and slut training. Getting excited, I decided to tempt providence and to send a mail to this Dominatrix suggesting a very special deal. At first, I thought to offer MISTRESS C, that is how. He was going to his Uncle Lenny's apartment to clean it out. Lenny had died three days earlier, and since he had no other immediate family, it was left to Bobby and his father to dispose of his earthly possessions.Lenny was the black sheep of the family. He had done everything wrong in a long life, and Bobby's parents didn't like to talk about him. Bobby hadn't seen him in ten years, since his First Communion, when Uncle Lenny had showed up drunk in church and caused a scene."How did you have a.