She wore a white blouse and flowy skirt, as she had when I had first met her. I felt underdressed."Wow!" I said, and she blushed."I'm feeling really g...od," she said, and ushered me in. "How about you?"I sat on her couch again and she joined me. "Still pretty tired. I thought maybe I caught a bug, but it's not acting like one. Maybe I just need to eat better. This year has been Hell." Literally, I mused."Ooh, poor baby," she gave a moue, and at the mention of "baby" I realized that I should tell. Skipping lightly over an excellent dinner of roast psuedo-duck, we move to Ginger's bedroom just before the appointed hour. The scenario she had picked was one of her favorites. As an Arcturan noblewoman, she would be served and serviced by her new slave. The costume, a flimsy turquoise thing, had already been laid out. Golden sandals and an assortment of jewelry, including an ornate choker necklace, completed her costume.Light of heart and bouncing of bosom, Ginger made her way through the. More

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