Although the expensive dress was prudently fastened at her neck, the ornately designed garment quietly emphasized every rising and falling curve of he... form. The petite woman’s nipples and navel were easily discernible through the soft material, as Darla eyed her while she walked towards them, following the row of buttons that made a path from her neck and down her torso and past her waist, ending at a point on her uppermost thigh, coming even with her crotch. The buttons themselves continued. Another two or three turns and she was painfully suspended, even in her high heels, her toes barely touching the floor."Let's se how you like the taste of the whip!" sneered the woman.Marsha looked back over her shoulder to see the old woman grasping a cat-o-nine tails. The only difference between this and original whips of this nature was that the ends of the flails were not metal tipped, but remained soft leather. Marsha's punishment would leave angry red whelps which would heal as opposed to. To her, it felt like she was staring at a stranger. What kind of a person would spring something so selfish and hurtful on his own wife, after forty one years? Didn't he know that was like a slap in the face to her. Forty one years of marriage, two children, six grandkids and now he was just as much as telling her that he didn't plan on spending that much more time with her? Could he really mean what he'd just said to her?"This isn't something I want to joke around about, Charlie. You just be. ..” She started to use a salt shaker and a fountain pen to indicate the positioning of the battleship and the Tyrannid hive ships – but before she could launch into the full story, Jon lifted his hand.“Please, forgive me, Vynn, but I need a rest. It was ... hard work,” he lied, thinking only of retiring to his books, to forget Reggie and the memories she had dredged up.“Oh, of course, you look terribly hipped. I suppose dealing with navigators for a civilian who ain’t used to them has to be an.
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