His blood was running seriously hot at the moment. He was steamed at what they'd done to his car, but he needed to temper that rage. They weren't wort... going to jail over. A few bruises would be enough to get the message across. He imagined them cowering below, desperately trying to summon up Lord Satan. It was pathetic.He stomped into the candlelit room. Figg was standing next to an old candelabra. He was holding a sheaf of yellowed old pages, each in its own plastic sheet protector. Standing. We left with my hair down to my hips still, but now dazzling, and shimmering down my back like a cascading fiery waterfalls.Once we got home I had Jim draw me a scented bubble bath. Then while I soaked in the tub I had him give me a pedicure under my strict guidance, and when that was complete I had him shave all of the hair away in my arm pits, and around my slit, then he shaped my orange pubic rug into a small fluffy thick sharp arrowhead pointing at my clit. It made a vulgar display I’ll. More

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