I’ve just finished applying a coat of mascara and a swipe of nude lipstick, ready for the office.You stop just inside the door, and I catch your eye...through the reflection in the mirror. There’s something hungry and dominant about your stare that stops me from wishing you Good morning and instead keeps me silent. You stalk the few steps towards me, your pace slow and predatory, eye contact maintained through the mirror. I feel the burning heat radiating from your body when it stops just behind. She told Peter that she and Michael were acquainted and that Michael had left instructions for her to receive his invitation if his business trip kept him from attending. Peter seemed to accept this but I couldn't quell the alarm I felt.The private party was a much smaller event, held on Peter's terrace. Slaves paraded around dressed like Arabian harem girls, while Peter and his guests lounged on overstuffed pillows. As before, the scene was decorated with slaves performing sex with guests. More

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