"Do you remember yet? Are you sorry?" She yelled. "Fuck you, bitch!" I replied.Then she stopped hitting me and unfastened my hands; I was momentarily ...elieved until she simply turned me around and reattached the arm restraints high above my head, but this time I was facing the door. As I struggled, she tightened my leg restraints so that I was spread even further, and I could feel the air hitting my exposed and newly shaved, vulnerable ass. She immediately grabbed the wooden spoon we purchased. Then I saw it. Angie reached her hand out and took Mary-Anne's. Theywalked that way toward the car, holding hands.Really?* *The next day, we had another errand. Mary-Anne loaded me in the carstill dressed like a maid - and began to drive. She passed a jewelrystore. She passed an office supply store. She passed a Target.Finally, she came to a strip mall, and she turned in. She pulled infront of a sign that said, "Glen Massey, Oncologist." My wanted searchedfor a definition, but for the life of. More

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