"You are going to be my trophy, a maid called Betty, I've toldyour manager Michelle that you're going to have a change in lifestyleand that I am going... take over the business for a while. Now, do youknow what this is?" She held up the piece of wood, he indicated thathe had no idea."This is called a paddle and I'm going to show you how it works."She grabbed his arm and had him over her lap before he could doanything about it and the next thing he knew his backside was on fire.He screamed. She. To him she was all he could desire, a real woman, not some model in a sex magazine or page 3, but a woman he would meet in any street, desirable, and willing, begging him to take her, use her, enjoy her. a spitting image of his mother too, again he kissed her, then his hand found her fast wetting crutch, his memory straying to that time with his mother, the crunch of his fathers car tyres on the gravel outside, that moment when he knew it was impossible and he needed to get to his room… But not. “So, each of you is owed a couple really nice, but closed-mouth kisses with Brett. I haven’t broached this with Beth or the others as I just thought of it. With the rest of the ... what did you call it?”Heather replied, “The lunch-table gang, or LTG.”“Yeah. With the rest of the LTG expected to arrive before lunch, we should get those kisses completed before then. Or-rr-rr-rr, if someone wanted, I suppose she could hold one of them in ... reserve for a future opportunity. Beth, I’m still new to. "Who are they, honey?" I asked, curious about how she was acting."Well... they say they are Secret Service agents," Cindi answered, somewhat breathlessly. Before I could even respond, my cell phone rang. The caller ID said it was my Dad. I decided to take the call first, before answering the door. Cindi assured me she had not let them in the house."Hi Dad. What's up?" Hi Son. Just wanted to give you a heads up, the Secret Service is on their way to your house. I checked them out. They are the.