Tony strode into the kitchen and came to an abrupt halt. The sight presented to his gaze made what had gone before pale and disappear into never never...land. Rose was leaning over, staring at the roast, her dress hiked up showing calf’s, knees and a goodly portion of her thighs. Being bent over as she was her breasts were hanging down away from her body, apparently being held only by her dress, and swaying with each movement of her arms. Covering the roast and closing the oven door Rose stood. She was carrying a tray on which sat a carafe of light green liquid and a small crystal wine glass, which she set down on a bedside table. There were a few couples and small groups of people – presumably friends and relations of the to-be-deceased, all dressed in their sexiest fetish “fuckday best” – who seated themselves on plush couches arranged around the perimeter of the chamber. And then there was Annabel, a stunningly beautiful woman with long black hair, dressed in a black faux-leather. More

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