I ordered up a massage and a manicure for her to our room. I made gentle love to her the whole night (literally, not one of those empty-promise-nights...men are so famous for) and by the time breakfast was delivered to our room, she was mine. I let her shave me, and had her show me how she could shave herself.Gotta love the Stockholm Syndrome.I began thinking I should get her a cute little lap dog she could blow on a daily basis when we got back, just to remind her. Maybe a Papillion or a. Piper hid in a corner of the breakfast nook and texted back. “There’s no package.”His reply came back so quickly it startled her, “Do not lie to me. You have a package, it is a reward and it has been delivered.”“Sorry, but no, it hasn’t,” she typed back.“Go to your front porch and get the package now. DO NOT LIE TO ME. DO IT NOW.”She’d never seen him type in all caps before and the site of it made her blood freeze. She scrambled up and ran back to the front porch, but there was still no. We were both sweaty and sticky from our lovemaking, and we decided that sharing a bath together would be the nicest way to get clean and fresh – and fresh with each other. We ran the water in the large bath in my bedroom’s private en suite facilities, adding lashing of lavender-scented bubble-bath to make mountains of sweet smelling foam on the surface of the steaming hot water. We stripped off our knee-highs, and I stepped in first, settling down in the gloriously hot and scented water. . We were into your emails within ten minutes, and every exchange the two of you have, now also goes to Sophie’s mailbox without you knowing. I do film and TV production. Your bedroom has been bugged for sound as well as video, for the last five months. We are now going to watch an edited version of the record, with some particular highlights, and with some of your emails coming up as well. Sit back and enjoy!” After a few minutes of graphic sex, the text of email exchanges began to overlie the.