She told him she hated to do it with no notice, but even before she could get her apology out, he broke in, "When something like this comes by, you've...got to grab it. I understand, Rhonda. Opportunity knocks but once. Now what can I do to help you get out of here?"The next few hours had been a blur, of gathering up her few belongings, packing up stuff she thought she might need, throwing out or giving away more than half of the few things she'd managed to accumulate in the years she'd been at. She noticed a car in the driveway. She walked up to the door and rang the bell. After a few seconds, a beautiful woman answered the door. The thing that was odd about her was she wore a collar that said “slut.”She wondered if she had a master or mistress and was interested to speak with her. She didn’t wear any makeup but was dressed well. Maggie licked her lips and started speaking to the woman.“Hello! My name is Maggie Woods and I sell make-up. I think last week I left a booklet of my. My third thought was to accept his invitation."Come out," he purred, his voice deep and smooth like hot chocolate,"you know you want to. We won't hurt you. We're both about loving, andpleasure. Aren't we, Connie?"The younger man turned his head and stared in my direction, his eyesstill glassy, and fogged over. He looked like the most stoned personI'd ever seen, and I realized that he was. He was stoned on sexuallove."Pleasure," he moaned out, meaning it, and feeling it.I realized I wanted. Everything had been perfect with Emma. She had snuck around with Scott, Jean had pretended she didn’t know what they were doing, and when Scott returned to her filled with guilt she had been more than happy to allow him to use her any way he wished.And then Emma had allowed Jean to catch her and Scott in bed.Jean had tried to figure out some way to pretend like she didn’t know what they were doing (‘Oh, you two slipped and your clothing fell off! That happens!’). But she couldn’t and everything.