I threw my half empty can across the kitchen in the general direction of my sink, grabbed my mobile and swiftly made my way to the front door, almost ...atching the tail of my cat under my work boots. I hopped the small brick wall that separated my front lawn to theirs, it was only about two foot high and was only put up just to separate the land, and battered their old wooden front door with my fist, shaking away some of the peeling blue paint as I punched it. Everything fell silent inside, and. If I knew Ciera even a little bit better I’d ask her.”“But we don’t trust Ciera, do we?” Liz said.I shrugged. It wasn’t a matter of trust for me. She had ample opportunities to cause me massive amounts of pain (inadvertently or purposefully) but she’d always been careful.“Do we?” Liz asked again.“I guess not,” I said (because that was obviously the only answer that would suffice). “While we’re talking about secrets ... do you ever plan to tell people about ... the wedding?”“Mr. Blakely, you. So... strong... ooooh... w-wonderful... ohhhh M-Master... I truly am your slave!” Was it true?I sincerely hoped it was!Birgit began to get even more agitated. If this was simulated, it was wonderful acting. But I began to get the impression it wasn’t simulated. Those blue eyes were glazing, her mouth began to sag and gape. There was salivaoozing out of her lips.“O-O-Ohhhh... M-Master... I... I’m... going to c-come...yes... ohhh... yessssss... oooooh... Master... may I come?”“You may, slave,” I. The Boyfriend might have been allowed all the way inside -- but oftentimes he still had never gotten a really good look at the merchandise.Even married couples rarely had access to facilities for developing film of a risqué nature. If a guy sent his film off to Kodak in Rochester, or to some other company for out-of-town processing, he might (or might not) get it back. And although no statistics were kept on such matters, the likelihood that some horny technician would make up an extra copy of.