His voice wakes me from my thoughts: “Go answer the door.” I must have given him a peculiar look because the next thing I know is he stands me u... and slaps my ass. “I said to answer the door.” “Yes, Master,” I reply as I start walking towards the door wondering who is in front of it. What are they going to think about a grown woman in nothing more than a tank top and a wet G-string? My nervousness grows with each step I take; but at the same time there is an excitement inside of me. As I. And, as we departed, we did encounter her wheel her trolley back into the store with only one item left in it. The first conversation in the attached story is verbatim as I recall it, the rest of the story is pure fiction. I have changed the names to protect the innocent and guilty alike.Shopping’s a chore I abhor, so only I accompany my wife Penny when my work shifts allow. Although we drive for a monthly stock-up at the out of town hypermarket across the county line, and a weekly trolley-ful. More

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