“Is this where you were going tonight?” I answer the phone. “Who is this?“ My tone sharp and clearly not amused. “I'm not your girl, and nei...ther is mine, so fuck off.” I hang up without waiting for a response and throw the phone at the wall behind her. “My phon…” It crumbles on contact. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You better tame that so-called wolf.” “Excuse me?” Tilting my head a bit as I step forward.“Oh yea.” She steps towards me the gap slowly closing, but the tension is building.. S. Just anywhere over the pond, really. I'd only been abroad when I was too young to remember it. So when the opportunity to move to Atlanta, Georgia, for the remainder of my studies, I bloody well took it. The campus wanted students with qualifications as good as mine, so they invited me, and even offered to pay for the plane ticket. Honestly, when I received that letter, I was flabbergasted. I called up to agree to move over there from dreary, bleak England, relieved I didn't have many people. Then we started whipping his balls with the belt.When he was totally covered in welts from the belt, we stopped and stood him up in front of the cam and turned him around slowly so everyone would see all the marks. Then we sat him back down on the edge of the bed, and Vanessa started spitting in his face, telling him he was scum, and he was going to pay for trying to mess with me. She pushed him backwards, then lifted up her skirt and took off her thong. I think she forgot the camera was right. But even subscribers had stood a less than one in ten chance of scoring a ticket for the opening night. And half the remaining tickets had been comped to various people that The Maker had decided would ‘help make the party swing’. More pragmatically, another significant chunk had been reserved to reward the various ‘political’ interests whose support had been necessary to make the ‘drome possible. All of which had left barely a thousand tickets on sale to the general public. With over a million.