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Review This Story || Author: Freddie Clegg

Market Forces

Part 43

Chapter 69 : Conference Call

Chapter 69 : Conference Call

 

Tricia’s downfall caused some consternation in the organisation for a while. Nobody likes to see a colleague suddenly taken out like that. On the other hand most people seemed to have had a belly full of having their ears bent by Tricia’s constant, “Why won’t they let me lead a collection?” so the general view was that she had it coming to her.

 

Harry and Rick were pretty nervous in case Freddie came gunning for them too. After all it had been Harry’s call, in the end to give Tricia the lead on that job and Rick’s team had done the intelligence gathering. In the end I guess, Freddie decided that it was better to have them in place worrying about things than to try to change things around.

 

I saw Tricia after they’d been working on her for only a few days. She was being put through her paces down in one of the training rooms. The combination of the drugs and the mistreatment she was going through had taken its toll already. Anatoly had said he intended to use her as a housemaid at their summer dacha. Freddie had thought she should be delivered in a state where she was fully equipped to perform her required role as well as having no recollection of her work for his business. She’d been put into a maid’s uniform, black dress, white apron and cap. Her trainer was sitting in an armchair while Tricia served him a drink. I looked in on them. Tricia didn’t respond to my arrival. Her blank look and the dribble of drool from the corner of her slack mouth provided all the evidence that was needed of the ruthlessness of the way in which she was being prepared for Kustenky. Freddie had warned that there might be some damage. As far as I could see, it was more a question of whether she’d even be able to function in the limited way that we’d promised. From the way she looked it was surprising that she could manage to walk and hold a tray. I found it pretty distressing to see her like that, but I still didn’t think that there was much I could have done about it, once Freddie (and, presumably, Elly) had decided to cut their losses over her. I was just glad that it hadn’t involved Sukie or Rachel. That would have been a harder call to make.

 

Freddie was busy. He and Elly had been talking together a lot. It was obvious from what Elly had said that she wasn’t happy with how things were going with the business. I’d mentioned the conversation that I had had with Steve and we’d agreed that I’d follow that up if I got a chance. Then Freddie told me that he and Elly had agreed on moving things forward with Anatoly. I sat in on a telephone conference with the two of them, Anatoly and Constanza.

 

Constanza kicked things off. “Things seem to have been a bit difficult for you lately, Freddie,” she began. “I mean the business with Lady M and now poor Alana. Not what I’d have thought from your operation.”

 

“I think you’ll find,” Clegg said slowly, “that there have been rather fewer problems with my operation than with yours, Constanza dear. Let’s see, there was that concert pianist whose fingers you managed to break during the collection process and I seem to recall that there was a religious sect that was not so happy with the idea of receiving a new priestess that was only almost a virgin. This is a risky business, Constanza, we all make mistakes.”

 

“Hmm,” cut in Anatoly. “If you two can avoid the bickering we might get a little further. Let me explain my current thinking. You two run perfectly adequate collection and preparation operations.” It sounded as though Anatoly almost heard Clegg’s grin of satisfaction and I could imagine Constanza’s querulously raised eyebrow. “At least most of the time, that is. Constanza, your expertise is in Europe, you don’t understand the UK. Clegg, you are as proficient in the UK as Constanza is in mainland Europe. I’d like the two of you to work together. The areas that my organisation covers have a great appetite for product from western Europe. It’s not practical for me to source it myself – Clegg you know how conspicuous some of my team would look in London - but I would like to have some reliable partners, people I can work with on a continuing basis.”

 

“I’m not sure, Anatoly,” Constanza began. “We’re not in a volume business, any more than Clegg is. You’ve seen the sort of work we do. Most of it is custom collection to order.”

 

“That’s very much the way for us too, Anatoly,” Clegg agreed. “Almost all of what we are doing is very specific these days. We’ve turned off the old operations that picked up girls on spec. I don’t think we’d be very well set up to fill the cages of some Georgian sex camp.”

 

I watched Elly wince. She wasn’t always comfortable with Clegg’s prejudices about foreigners.

 

“I think, Freddie,” Anatoly came back in measured tones, “that you have a rather out of date view of my clients. We are not talking about high volume but high quality. There’s a lot of money here and a great interest in acquiring ‘toys’ as my clients call them.”

 

“Toys?” said Clegg.

 

“Yes, it’s rather a different product from what you’ve been used to supplying. I sometimes think that the Europeans have lost all subtlety, your barbarian origins are reasserting themselves. The approach to slave owning there is often so brutal. Constanza, tell me, do you ever take product back for resale?”

 

“You know we don’t, Anatoly. It’s too often damaged. We leave the resale market for others. If we’ve picked it and prepped it we can speak for it. Otherwise, someone else can take the risk.”

 

Clegg joined in. “She’s right Anatoly. It’s a costly business, looking for new collections all the time, but most of the customers can’t be relied on to keep them in anything like original condition.”

 

“Well,” said Anatoly, “I understand that. But why is it? I’ll tell you. It’s because your customers are brutes. And Clegg, you must know the Kushtian’s are the worst.” Clegg grunted. “Now, my client base is rather different. They are looking for something that they can care for and enjoy. It’s a very good life for those that are purchased. They lose their freedom, of course, but apart from that they have a very comfortable life. They have a rather unique relationship with their new owners and we retain a continuing interest in their well being. The owners all understand that they must not mistreat their toys – the consequences for that are unfortunate for the owner. But on the other side the owner is provided with a sexually delightful companion. We find that requests are often for more mature women than is the case in other sectors. Forty plus year olds seem to be highly desired and well suited to the role of toys.”

 

“And what does that mean for us?” Clegg seemed wary. I had my own thoughts. As far as I could tell it meant lower volumes with less repeat business, higher end user prices but lower margins because we’d be shipping through Anatoly’s operation and I didn’t imagine he’d be doing it for the love of it.

 

Anatoly spoke slowly. “I suggest it will mean simply some additional business to your regular activities. You will be concerned about margins and volumes I am sure.” Elly leant forward towards the speakerphone, she had obviously picked up on the same problem that I had. “That is not a point on which you should concern yourself, the premium on this product line is more than sufficient to cover the expenses of both my organisation and yours, whichever of you is contributing. I am quite happy to pursue an open book on accounting for these items. As to volumes, well, it’s just additional sales, isn’t it? These are opportunities you would not normally reach. It’s marginal business for you, additional coverage for your research teams, taking up unused capacity in your Prep activities and so on.” 

 

Clegg leant forward to the speakerphone. “Could you excuse us for a minute, Anatoly?” He said.

 

“Sure,” said the Russian.

 

Clegg clicked the mute switch. “What do we think?”

 

Elly spoke first. “I don’t trust him. Not one inch. But it’s additional business and we could do with it to help cover overheads. As long as we don’t invest additionally. And we don’t have to work with Constanza directly.”

 

The reference to Constanza puzzled me. Clegg had seemed quite sanguine about their encounters. Their exchanges seemed to have an amiable nature. Of course, I then thought, that might well be what Elly had concerns about. Clegg turned to me. “Larry?” he said.

 

“I think it’s a bit of a distraction and I’d be surprised if it turns out to be genuinely marginal business. You always end up needing more resources in my experience. On the other hand, it fits with our aims to move up-market in terms of product and client if we believe what Anatoly says about ‘toys’. Plus I’ve been worried by how much the Kushtian volumes have been dominating what we’ve been doing. If they went away suddenly for any reason we’d be in serious cash flow problems, I suspect. I suppose my view is we should do it but keep our eyes open and carry on trying to develop other routes to market or product lines.”  

 

Clegg sat back. “All right,” he said. “I think we’re agreed. Let’s go back on the line.” He flicked up the mute switch. The sound of Constanza and Anatoly chuckling after an exchanged joke came through the speaker. “Sorry for that,” said Clegg.

 

“Don’t worry,” said Constanza, “I was just asking Anatoly how his daughter was.”

 

Clegg looked irritated. Elly put out a hand to his arm as if to say, “Its not worth it.” Clegg grunted. “I’m sure she’s fine. Isn’t she, Anatoly?”

 

“Of course, Freddie, of course,” Anatoly came back. “Do you think I would be asking you to collect and prep high value items if she’d come to any harm? In fact, but don’t tell her I told you, I think you gave her rather an easy ride. Her story of collection and confinement told me your people had the right methods for this sort of product.”

 

Clegg looked rather self satisfied. Elly gave him a “you’re being flattered, be careful” look.

 

Anatoly went on. “Well, Constanza is keen to participate? Can I assume that you are too, Clegg?”

 

“Keen is too strong a word, Anatoly,” Clegg responded. “Willing would be better. Let’s see how it goes. But you can count us in, at least initially.”

 

“You’re too much of a sceptic, Freddie,” Constanza’s voice came in.

 

“Maybe,” said Clegg. “I just feel happier that way.”

 

“All right,” said Anatoly. “I will set things up with my team. I assume you can make available suitable communication channels to allow us to specify our requirements. My legal team will put together a distribution collaboration agreement.”

 

“You’d better let me see that, Anatoly,” said Elly.

 

“Of course,” said Anatoly.

 

“Still spending your time with your head in contracts?” said Constanza.

 

“Still spending yours with your head in men’s laps?” snapped Elly in an uncharacteristic momentary loss of control. Clegg coughed and looked sheepish. Elly looked as if she regretted saying it.

 

Anatoly cut in. “Well that’s all from my side,” he said. “I expect we’ll all speak again soon.”

 

The line went dead. Freddie turned to me and said, “I want to understand more about these ‘toys’. The way Glennis treats his stable is the nearest thing I’ve heard of to that. Didn’t you say you were going to see him?” I nodded. “Well, I think you should make it sooner than later.” I left Elly and Freddie together. It sounded like they had some unfinished business to discuss.

 

 

Chapter 70 : Colonial Ambitions

 

Rick was still busy refining the sexualisation and pleasure programme. Harry was using the Tricia debacle as an excuse to get all of his team to re-run some of the basic operations drills. As he said, after the problems with Lady Marchmont, and now this, there was room for improvement, to say the least.

 

Life with Sukie and Rachel carried on much as before. Sukie seemed content in her role. Rachel had taken on the sexualisation programme with enthusiasm and her writing was better than ever.

 

I was trying to set up a trip to see Steve Glennis but in the mean time business carried on as usual. Clegg had been contacted by another of his chums who was looking for a more personal contact. With Brian now long out of the picture, Clegg had asked me to follow it up.

 

I was sitting in the Long Room at Lords. Out on the pitch the England team were 127 for 7 in the first session of the final day needing another 230 runs to avoid an innings defeat by the Australians and the loss of the Ashes. With the best will in the world it was looking like a bad day for English cricket. There was a collective groan from the crowd around the ground outside and a ripple of polite applause. 127 for 8, I assumed.

 

The door at the far end of the room swung open and an elderly man in wheel chair barged his way through and headed towards me. “Ross?” he asked as he pulled to a halt alongside me. I nodded. “Good he said glad you’re on time. Do sit down.”

 

He was in his late seventies I guessed wearing pale flannel trousers and a striped blazer. He wore a tie that had the air of a demented snake caught in an act of strangulation. It carried the blood and vomit stripes of the Marylebone Cricket Club.

 

I felt I ought to apologise for interrupting his enjoyment of the game at a crucial moment.

 

“Enjoyment?” he snorted. “There’s more fun to be had sticking your head in a wasps nest. Completely useless bunch. No backbone. No fibre.” He held his hand out. “Colonel Snell,” he said, “My friends call me ‘basher’. You can too.”

 

“Unusual nickname, ‘basher’. Cricket? Bit of a batsman were you? Army days? ” I said.

 

“No,” said Snell. “Before that. School days. Some of my friends seemed to think I had an inordinate fondness for the masturbatory arts. Quite right of course. It’s kept me fit for the past sixty years. Can’t complain can I?”

 

I was regretting asking. I was keen to change the subject. “Mr Clegg said you had a possible project for us.”

 

“Yes,” Basher replied, “Do you never feel a little cheated? As though your rightful legacy has been usurped by others?”

 

I shook my head, I really didn’t have much of an idea what he was on about.

 

“You see this?” He pointed to a large world globe beside the case that held the tiny urn that the collective endeavours of the two teams on the field were currently directed towards. “In my youth a large part of this was coloured pink. The British Empire, young man, the British Empire. Just think, we ruled a quarter of the globe. And what thanks do we have for it now?”

 

I tried to look sympathetic. I wasn’t at all clear what these rants had to do with the job we were being asked to take on.

 

“None!” He barked, prodding at the globe with his stick. “None at all. And they have the gall to beat us at our own games. Football. Cricket. Golf. All given to the world by the British. And the weak kneed government does nothing about our national teams. And to what avail? I ask you? Ha! The occasional success, perhaps, but it’s the exception. Mark my words!”

 

The club steward was looking concerned at my guest’s mistreatment of the globe.

 

“Never mind Barry, my young fellow, we’ll show them.”

 

“Its Larry,” I said correcting him.

 

“Precisely. Barry. I’m no longer a young man, Barry, want to find some companionship for my old age.”

 

“I see, a woman of mature years perhaps,” I suggested, “someone to bring cheer in your autumn years.”

 

Pah, stuff and nonsense!” he exploded. “I said I wasn’t young not that I was decrepit. No, I’m looking for some young girls to amuse me. Take my mind off my aches and pains. Give me something to do on the long dark winter evenings if you know what I mean?” he gave me a lascivious leer. “I may be in a wheel chair but just because my legs don’t work, don’t imagine that everything below the waist is non-functional. Constant use, that’s what’s kept it working. Constant use!”

 

Well who was I to judge? “I’m sure we have something suitable in stock,” I said.

 

“Shouldn’t think so,” he said. “I’m a man of particular tastes.”

 

In my experience “particular tastes” usually turned out to be a euphemism for “raving pervert” but again the more specialised the tastes, the more opportunity for us to add value and the better our fee. I said, “And those tastes are?”

 

“I wish to rebuild the Empire.” I raised my eyebrows. “On a small scale to be sure,” he said seeing my astonishment, “but rebuild it I shall.” He dropped his voice. “A stable of young ladies from each corner of the Empire. A dozen young women – a dozen mind not some nasty, continental, decimal ten.  All of them, under twenty five say. Brought back under the rightful rule of a scion of the United Kingdom.”

 

“I see,” I said, “So what Australia, New Zealand, Canada, India, South Africa,…

 

“Yes, all of those. Malaya, naturally, Hong Kong, Rhodesia, Kenya, Nigeria. And of course from the biggest colony of all.”

 

“Sorry,” I said, puzzled, “I thought we’d covered the main ones.”

 

“You omitted the American Colonies.”

 

“What? The USA?”

 

“I don’t recognise that term. That fool George’s fault He lost the lot. Should have held on to it. Think what the Empire would be like today! But yes we must have at least one representative of the Thirteen Colonies – New York, Carolina, Massachusetts Bay, somewhere like that.”

 

“Ah,” I said. “You realise, of course that this will be an expensive project. I mean we’d be talking one and half, two million, ah.” I caught myself in time, ”no, at least a million pounds sterling.”

 

“Not a problem young man,” he replied, looking relieved that I had avoided the use of the word “dollars”. 

 

“You don’t feel that this could prove something of a strain? I mean a man of your years. So many young women?”

 

“I may be in a wheel chair, young Barry but I’m not in my grave just yet. I’m more than able to provide them with the care and attention that they deserve. People forget that the home country had a great responsibility to care for those of its subject territories. These young ladies will be well cared for, you need not worry. It might help if some of them had some nursing skills though. Just to be practical.”

 

“OK, now perhaps we can talk about how we should manage the project. Normally these days we’d let you advise us on requirements, comment on our plans and so on through our web site but I guess we could….”

 

He interrupted. “I’m happy with a computer. Just give me the url the log-on i.d. and a password.” He could see I was non-plussed. “Listen my boy,” he said, “if you knew how difficult it was to get hold of pornography in my youth you’d realise that coming to grips with Mr Gates’ abominations is a breeze compared with the benefits provided. I’m perfectly at home on the Internet.”

 

I thought about Basher. It seemed he was much closer to Kushnati and the Kushtians than to Anatoly’s vision of a toy owner. I was pretty clear that if we did find him the girls he wanted we’d not be able to re-sell them.

 

Chapter 71 : Island Jaunt

 

While Harry and Rick set up the colonial collection I had my trip set up to see Steve set up. I thought I should let Kelly know that I wasn’t going to be around for a while and the night I was due to leave I wasn’t far from her place so I thought I’d drop in.  I tried her mobile a couple of times but didn’t get a reply.

 

I got to her house. It looked as if she was there. The car was outside and there were lights on. I rang the bell. There wasn’t any answer but I was sure I could hear people moving around inside. I rang the bell again, longer this time. Eventually through the frosted glass of the front door I saw someone coming.

 

Kelly opened the door. Dressed in a black polo and slacks she looked pretty hot, but she didn’t seem too happy to see me. “Oh,” she said, “It’s you.”

 

“Hmm,” I said. “Not a great welcome. Shall I go away?”

 

Kelly looked apologetic and a little embarrassed. “Sorry,” she said and then laughed. ”It’s just …. Oh look, come on in, you’ll get the picture.” She led the way up the hall. I shut the door behind me.

 

We got to the living room and I saw what she was embarrassed about. Sitting on her living room floor were two helplessly bound and gagged women. “This is Larry, a friend of mine,” Kelly said to the two of them. “Don’t worry, he’s cool with this.”

 

From the looks on their faces I didn’t think they were.

 

“Larry, this is Brianna,” Kelly pointed to a hog-tied red head, rolling from side to side on the floor as she struggled against the ropes that tied her wrists, ankles, knees and elbows. Her mouth was filled with a knot tied into the middle of a scarf that was gagging her but she was still able to communicate that she wasn’t happy with my arrival. “and this is Sue.” Alongside the red head, a girl with short blond hair was struggling with her own bonds. Both were fully clothed; Sue in a pale blue dress, Brianna in brown trousers and a cream sweater. Kelly turned back to me. “Do you want some tea,” she asked impishly. I nodded. She said, “Have a seat, I won’t be a minute.”

 

I sat down on the couch, Kelly’s two captive friends struggling and mewling at my feet. Kelly was evidently quite proficient in her use of ropes. Neither of the girls showed much sign of being able to get free.

 

True to her word, Kelly didn’t take long. She emerged from the kitchen with two mugs of tea. She sat down on the couch alongside me.

 

“I didn’t have you down for doing the tying,” I said.

 

“It’s not ideal,” said Kelly. “We take turns.” Brianna and Sue looked distressed that Kelly was discussing things but they couldn’t really object. “I’m going to be in real trouble when it’s their go after this.” Brianna gave her an affirming nod. “Still what the hell.” She leant forward and rolled Sue over on her face. As she sat back on the couch with her tea, she put her feet on Sue’s bottom, using her as a foot stool. The girl gave a muffled whimper of protest.  “Now, what can I do for you?” Kelly asked.

 

“I don’t know that it’s the best time,” I said, nodding to the two girls that were still struggling on the floor. “I’m going to be away for a while, so I thought I’d come and say to look after yourself while I’m away.”

 

“That’s nice,” said Kelly. “It’s a shame though. Maybe you could have come around and tie all three of us up.” Brianna and Sue took to grunting their protests.

 

“Sounds like you have some persuading to do,” I said, though the idea of the three of them, trussed up for fun had a considerable appeal. “Look, I’ll leave you to this. I’ll give you a call when I get back.”

 

Kelly looked down at the two helpless girls. “Yeah,” she said, “It’s probably best. I’ll see you out.”

 

We walked out to the hall together. As I stopped at the door I kissed her. She kissed me back, enthusiastically. “I meant what I said about the three of us,” she said. “They will have so got off on this, you know.”

 

“And I meant what I said about look after yourself,” I replied. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be away.”

 

“You look after yourself too, then,” she said, and we parted.

 

The flight out to Barbados was uneventful – just how I like them. The security routines at the airport were particularly tedious, especially since I knew that a container was going out, with a couple of girls doped and helpless, in the hold of the same aircraft that I was sitting in. “Did you pack your bags yourself, sir?” : “Yes.” : “Does your checked baggage contain any of the following prohibited items?” : “No, but there is a 24 year old blonde and a 30 year old brunette that you might be interested in……” Customs and Immigration at Grantly Addams International were no problem. Then it was just a short taxi ride down to Bridgetown Harbour in order to meet up with Steve’s seaplane.

 

The pilot put the Beaver down close to the pier as we taxied in I could see someone waiting in the dusk as the sun set. I climbed out of the ‘plane, grabbed my bag from the back seat – no helpless mewling female cargo this time – and stepped across from the Beaver’s float and on to the wooden jetty.

 

“Hi,” said a voice. “You must be Larry. Steve asked me to meet you.”

 

I looked up from my bag to see the broad smile of Lady Marchmont. She extended a hand and I reached forward to take it. “Hi,” I said, puzzled somewhat to see her walking around without at least some sign of restraints. She was wearing the shortest of denim cut-offs and a sleeveless shirt tied off under her tits. There were no cuffs, collars, or shackles that I could see and nowhere to hide them either.

 

“Leave the bag, I’ll get someone to get it later,” she said. She peered at me. “Have we met before?”

 

I felt honesty was the best policy. “Mmm,” I said. “You were in hospital in Switzerland and wearing rather a lot of bandages.”

 

“Of course. You were pushing the trolley. How did things turn out for those nurses? They weren’t too terrible to me.”

 

I had to confess that I had no idea. The last time I had seen them was when Harry and I had left them hogtied and grunting into bandage wad gags on the bed at the clinic. I guessed that Constanza would have been fairly un-amused with them but I didn’t really know.

 

I walked back up the jetty with Lady M. Steve emerged from the house as we got to the edge of the lawn. Lady M took off towards him at a run and threw her arms around him. Steve had just managed to disentangle himself by the time I reached the veranda. He put his hand out. “Larry,” he called. “Good to see you again. Thought you’d like to see Angela too.”

 

I nodded.

 

“You’ll need a drink.” It wasn’t a question and he knew I didn’t need to answer. “Get us a couple of rum punches, hun,” he said patting Angela’s backside. She wagged a finger at him disapprovingly but laughed and disappeared into the house. Steve watched her go. “Now that,” he said, “has to be one of the best purchases, I’ve made.”

 

“I’m glad she’s a success,” I said sitting myself down in one of the cane chairs. The view from the veranda looked out to the ocean where the sky at the horizon was fading from dark gold into purple as the last remnants of the sunset disappeared. “She seems to have adjusted to her new life remarkably quickly. I thought she might be wearing a collar at least.”

 

“She’s an intelligent woman. I explained how things were. She knows that she can go anywhere she likes on the island. She has a lot of freedom here but she knows that there is no way off for her and that if she tried it could be very detrimental to her health. On the other hand she is treated well. Freddie shared with me some of your thoughts on the sexualisation programme. We’re using something similar for Angela on a much smaller scale of course but it seems to work. She’s very receptive to those ideas and she’s now only too eager to please. I think she’s had a long time of only pleasing herself. She’s glad of the change.”

 

Anglea reappeared from the house carrying a tray with three fruit and alcohol laden glasses. She put the tray on the table between us and curled up on the floor beside Steve, resting her head against Steve’s thigh. Steve reached down to toy with her hair with one hand while he picked up his drink with the other. I joined him.

 

We sat there, not talking, just enjoying the early evening. Steve and Angela looked relaxed and comfortable with one another. I downed the last of my punch. “I’ll turn in if that’s OK,” I said.

 

“Sure,” said Steve. “I know what it’s like. We’ve got an early start tomorrow. There’s a few folk coming in for the meeting. You’re in the end room. Can you find it?”

 

“Yes,” I said, “I remember.” Mainly what I remembered was that it was where I had first encountered Sukie, It seemed that Steve had a benign influence on the women he acquired. I waved them goodnight and headed off into the house.

 

The room was just as it was before, the large fan turning slowly in the ceiling, the white louvered shutters propped on by a rattan chair. My bag had been unpacked and my things put away. I tossed my clothes on a chair and fell into bed.

 

I must have laid awake for twenty minutes or so before I started to doze off so it was through a half asleep haze that I heard the door to my room open.

 

It was Angela. “Steve thought you might need some help to get to sleep,” she said. I blinked my eyes into focus. The light from the hall outside, shining through the doorway, threw her into silhouette. It was clear that she was naked. Suddenly I didn’t feel quite as sleepy.

 

“That would be great,” I said turning back the bed sheet to invite her in. She slid into the bed alongside me, her hands on my chest, stroking and running her fingers across my arms.

 

Although she was naked, I soon realised that almost every part of her body appeared to be adorned with some jewelled ornament. On her head she wore a chain that held a drop pearl in the centre of her forehead. Her neck was encircled by a choker necklace with eight strands of pearls, her arms and ankles carried bracelets and bangles. In each of three piercings in either ear she wore neat gold hoops, those to the front slightly smaller than those to the back. It was as if Steve was presenting her as a gift while showing the regard with which he held her, making the gift more precious still.

 

Her love making was as generous as it was creative, fired with the same energy and will to please that Rachel and Sukie showed. Rather than taking my mind off things, I ended up feeling homesick. At the end we both fell asleep, her head against my chest.

 

© 2006 Freddie Clegg

Download PDF copies of my other stories at my Yahoo Group :

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/

 


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