“And your point is?” I asked.“I do not make clothes for slaves,” she responded.“I see. Perhaps I should mention that in my letter to the Que...n. I am sure She would be quite interested.” She could see the paper and ink on the small table in the room, where I had left it last night.“I ... I!” was all she said.“I require something simple. Perhaps something that buttons down the front or something like a robe. Something that she could get in and out of easily. Her back is quite raw. Would you like. But can any of you guys give company to me while I return home?”“We both will, dear,” said Joseph as he put his right hand on my navel region.The Uber driver dropped at the destination. John was staying in a star hotel. The place was so awesome. As soon as we entered the room Joseph closed the door. I was feeling so nervous. I sat on the bed. Joseph sat on my left side very close to me.“Samantha, do you drink?” asked John.“Red wine, very rarely,” I said.“Good we have it,” he said.John sat on my. More

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