I clambered back up, told the horses to get moving, and asked her name."Philipa," she said, in three parts: Fil-ah-pah, "but Madam Arnest to you, my m...n." She sniffed, raised her chin and then laughed at herself, covering her mouth with both hands. "Did you ever hear such language, in your whole life?" A few times," I told her, "but your husband has a rich vocabulary." I'm from Rhode Island," she said. "Near Providence." Good men from there," I said, "some of the best in this army. And Greene,. "Thanks for telling me. Now, I'm ridof you."Charisma smiled at Tiffany's naivet?. How could she be so simple afterall she'd put her through? "Have your breasts gotten smaller since youstopped wearing the brassiere? Have your stomach and waist and hipswidened or loosened since you put away the corset? Have your feetresumed their previous size since you discarded the shoes?"No, Tiffany thought. Her breasts were as large as ever. Her tummy wasstill flat, her waist still narrow, and her hips still. I ran my fingers over the piles of nylon and lace trim, feelinga sensation akin to picking up static electricity and inflaming myarousal further. From the top I picked up a pair of dark brown, semi-opaque pantyhose with an enticing glossy sheen and carried them over tothe bed.I had seen enough TV and film footage of women putting on hosiery to havean idea what to do. I sat down and put my hand in one leg and gatheredthe material over it, marvelling at the way the nylon fabric gripped. I was having more sex now than I had ever had in my career and it didn’t involve using and abusing d**gs. I would smoke some pot here and there or do a line of cocaine at a party on occasion, but the sex I was having was fun and with men who were professionals, actors, athletes and in general, much more sophisticated than the d**g addicts that Shawn sold me to for years, when I worked the street as his d**g addled, low priced hooker. I needed the d**gs to do the things I did then, when I was.