Pinching his arm hurt. OK, it was a hallucination. Too much beer. Coffee. He needed black coffee. Heading for the kitchen, Scott caught his reflection... in the dining room mirror and froze. What the Hell? His clothes had changed! What was he doing wearing a sports shirt and dress slacks on a weekend? And he looked a lot younger. Moving closer, he ran a hand over clean-shaven cheeks. There was some sort of makeup all over his face. And his hair was actually styled, like one of those movie stars.A. She told the girl to set me up in one month, late in theafternoon as Heidi's last appointment for the day.For the next month I thought about Heidi's parting words with a mix ofdread and excitement. I continued to use a curling iron every morning, butthe temptation to buy a set of rollers was tough to overcome. After a weekor so my manicure had grown out and I bought nail polish remover to cleanup my nails. After the nail polish was off, I didn't cut my nails, butinstead I filed then the way. I looked the waitress in the eyes as I grabbed my cock, forcing it down towards her pussy. I slipped the thick, swollen head inside, held it still for a second, then moved slightly in and out, in and out."Mmm," she purred.I grabbed her hips and plunged full force into her pussy, burying the entire shaft inside her slippery flesh."Aaah!" she cried."Yeah!" Patrick said. "Like that! Again!"I pulled my cock almost all the way out, froze for a few seconds, then thrust it back in as hard as. "Lie exactly as you are, while I get the whip." She heard him go to the cupboard and take out a short, flick-whip that he kept for these occasions. He traced a pattern with the end of it on her body.Suddenly he flicked it sharply and the end bit her left nipple: she yelped."Good, instant obedience again. Pity you didn't do that earlier, isn't it?"She nodded. He flicked the whip again. It lashed her right breast. Then he turned his attention to her cunt. Delicately flicking the whip, he made it.