Robert, the exclusive seventh floor’s butler, was seated at a reception desk engrossed in a magazine while the evening news played across the room o...n a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall behind a deserted entertainment area. The double sliding-door behind Robert was open exposing a stretch of coast highway meandering alongside the moonlit ocean and illuminated periodically by the headlights of passing cars. Tipsy on champagne and within the butler’s line of sight, but far enough so he would not. So I did some detective work to find out if it was true. I followed him around a couple of times to see what he was up to. Apparently, he wasn't having an affair. But he was hanging out in bars with his brother. And I did notice that women would hit on him, but he seemed to resist. But one time, I did see him accept a women's phone number. A week later, I overheard him on the phone with uncle Frank, and he asked dad if he had called that woman. He said no, but he was really thinking about it.. . very nice indeed, it will make a fine addition to our stable after its induction and training” Hurt and angered that she was being spoken about and not to while unable to voice her denial and trapped as she was by her wrist cuffs and with her leather leash held tight by Joan, Karen Taylor could do no more than angrily shake her head and mumble her disapproval through the ball gag, thinking If this young thug thought she’d simply bow down before him, then he certainly didn’t know Karen Taylor. But after a while, I actually began to enjoy watching. “Her eyes twinkled, “especially the look on your face when Marcie got undressed. It was hilarious watching you trying not to look or touch.” She came to me then, and cuddled up next to me. We didn’t talk for a while. Finally though, I had to ask. “You planned that didn’t you?” She giggled. “Yes. Marcie didn’t want to do it, but I invoked sister privileges. I’m glad I did too. She’s been hurt so bad and could use a safe haven.” “And I am.