”“Yeah? That simple huh?” I remarked.“We did have a few guys bail out. I don’t know if they couldn’t find a girl or couldn’t handle it, ...o they ghosted. Oh well, fuck them.”“What’s Roxy’s story? She looks out of place.”Rod pulled me in close.“She got brought in by this really rich kid. Story goes that she’s an escort that he hired to be here.”“Hah! Nice move! You know the plan, right?” I replied.“Yup. Come on, let’s head upstairs and watch the action.” Rod nodded.I followed Rod up several. At first I hated the idea of painting my nails. I felt humiliated and embarrassed. But after awhile, it just seemed like one more duty. It even became relaxing because I could just sit and watch TV or read my sports magazines as I worked. Soon it even seemed natural to have "Rose", "Honey" or "Mauve" finger tips as I flipped through the Super Bowl preview pages. (I swore I'd never tell anyone, but I actually began to like painting my nails!) Of course, I always removed the polish from my. " I emphasized 'soon' and the cocky look she had in her eyes began to wilt. She was proud, and rightly so, of the expert way she had handled the crop but it was a bit excessive. More than a bit. It was exuberant, a celebration of whipping, beautiful in a way, but uncalled for under the circumstances. I wasn't sure how to proceed with this volatile minx without crushing her spirit. Of course, I was a good one to preach moderation with the whip, what with my two women showing very visible bruises. At least I’d be able to put something else, although equally revealing, on when I went to the liquor store.Sheila had matched things up when we went shopping last Friday. With this skirt and corset, I could wear one of three blouses. All were low cut to expose most of my cleavage and they were all see through. I decided with the black corset and light blue skirt, I had better wear the dark blue top. After putting it on, I looked in the mirror, and to my shock, my areolas were clearly visible.