Ilsa Lund. I always think it vulgar to mention my husband's name at times like these."Freddie sat down at the end of the bed. "Vulgar to mention his n...ame but not to appear naked in another man's bed, Miss Lund?" He was intrigued by the woman, not least because it had been an Ilsa Lund that Rick had been seeing in Paris. If this was the same woman he wondered what had happened in the intervening time. How come she was now married to Lazlo? When had she and Rick split up? In Marseilles or after. ”Glasses”. She got two wine glasses from the cupboard and held onto my shoulder as I poured. I carried the glasses into the lounge and placed them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “This table is usually over there but its a lap meal cos I don't have a dining table and chairs”.“That's OK most of my meals are lap meals.” she said as she kissed me on the cheek.“ OK. You sit down and I'll get the dinner out of the oven. Wont be a minute”. I went in the kitchen, got out plates and cutlery. " Sorry, it's the shoes."She shrugged. "Nobody forced you to wear five inch heels."I squatted down and massaged my foot. She stepped to me and gripped my shoulder. "Come on. If you can't take a few aches and pains, it's gonna be a long night for you."I stood and followed her along the dark sidewalk. "Yes mistress."She stopped. "Not 'mistress'!" Uh – okay. What should I call you?" I told you. Call me 'Sara'. That's my name, and I hate all that phony roleplaying shit. Got it?" Sure."Again, we. Master spoke something to Mistress, after which she left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Gagging my mouth again he caressed my still throbbing ass with the bamboo cane, before moving it away. ‘What bliss he is giving me,’ I thought to myself. 'He’s not going to punish me anymore!' Alas, I was lying to myself. Master John had other plans for curing me of my disobedient behavior. Once, twice, thrice; down came the cane. He rapidly tanned my brown hide, covering every square inch.