Stacy usually didn't wear makeup. Even at work where she was an office manager she only wore a little lipstick and skipped that half the time. She had...become reasonably proficient with blush and eye-shadow, occasionally using it in moderation for important business events.This evening, she was going for a different effect and had spent the last hour trying to get it right. She didn't want to look like a hooker... not a cheap one anyway.In an odd way, the last hour of focus interspersed with. “I’ve read about it in magazines,” l replied, “so did you do it, l want to know.”“Yes if you must know,” she replied, “l tried to spit it out the first time but he slapped me and told me l had to swallow it, it was horrible, l thought l was going to be sick.”“You still do it though.”“I’m used to it now… god that sounds awful… what are you going to do? Are you going to tell Mum and Dad, Dad will kill me.”“That depends,” l replied.“Depends on what?” she looked up at me with her tear streaked. It was the front one overlooking the road, next to the sitting room. It was a fairly bare room with a bed, wardrobe and a couple of chairs. Sian had made it seem warmer with a few posters on the walls and some personal things, and of course it smelt of her."I can lend you a towel and a toothbrush; if you use the bathroom on the half landing you won't wake Bryony."I took the things from her, and went and had another pee and cleaned my teeth. I sniffed my armpits and wasn't too revolted.I nearly. Karen looked at me with aserious face. "Sissy, if you shake my purse off and spill it I willturn your backside red."Oh shit, I stopped thrashing and began to gently shake my head back andforth. With another predatory smile she leaned over and pulled thepanties out of my mouth. "What do I want to hear from my sissy rightnow?" she whispered in my ear."Mrs. Karen......." I paused, catching my breath and clearing my mindso I could push beyond the barriers that were holding me back. I knewthat.