And thin. He was probably half my size. His first word were: ‘Ready to be abused, bitch?’‘Y..yes sir’, I stammered back.It felt weird calling ...his k** sir. When we spoke I had a mental image of a huge, tough guy. But somehow being abused by a scrawny k** made it more exciting. It lowered my self respect even more. Now I was right there at the bottom rung.He talked, over beer, about him and his preference. He said he was particularly turned on abusing fat guys like me. Made him feel real. . I will try and avoid it happening again.”She smiled. “Well at least you are being honest, I suppose,” she responded as she took another sip of her coffee. “I have a confession to make as well.”I looked up at her.“I spent the night with someone else.”I remained silent for a few moments. “Well I suppose I deserved it.”She nodded.“Anybody I know?”She nodded again. I felt my stomach begin to knot. “Joe,”“Joe?”“Joe, who has the taxi firm?”“Dreadlock Joe?”She smiled. “He hasn’t had dreadlocks for. More

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