.."You hate me...don't you Chrissy?" This is when Chuck stepped in..."Tiff, I don't think it's a good idea if...", which was when Tiffany forcefully m...de it clear. "Shut the fuck up Chuck...I want to hear it from HER". Now I'm at the point where truth-telling goes hand in hand with the blood-alcohol content level. But I cut off my alcohol supply, because I know when to say when. "No Tiffany, I don't hate you" and I promptly dismissed myself and crashed back on the couch. At this point the party. Justas I was thinking about him, he called. "Joan?" he asked. "What's up Sam?" I asked in return. "I just wanted to know if you were up for a trip to the beach in themorning," he said. "Sorry Sam, I can't go in the morning. I'm going to get a hair cut," Itold him. I didn't want to tell him about my appointment at thehairdresser's. I wanted it to be a surprise. "Well, can't you get it cut another time? You've got all summer." "Sam, Mom made this appointment for me," I said without. He called to one of his co-workers who ducked under the spray of the arcing water and walked cautiously into the shadows of the alley. He disappeared for long minutes, but then he was back, his arms full with the writhing body of a wet and very pissed off longhaired yellow cat."Felix!" The young man shouted and ran to the fireman, arms outstretched.The rescuer was glad to turn over his ungrateful bundle. For his part, the cat wasn't any happier to be held by his owner than by his savior. He. Also she wanted a metal chastity belt. Cammy sat there with an open mouth as they discussed her as if she wasn’t there, and realized this is what being slave was all about, and it was all about ever the owner wanted. Racheal pulled on the leash and Cammy followed Racheal and Shelia through a doorway into the sex shop and over to and section of metal belts. Shelia told her assistant Wendy to engrave a slave tag for Cammy’s new collar stating she was now Racheal’s slave. As Wendy did this,.
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