"How do you do?" I said nervously in my Nancy voice, extending myfemininely manicured hand, "I'm Nancy Peterman, Bill's sister."Mrs. Jackson just grin...ned and gave me a big hug. "Oh my word! Darren, Ican't believe it's really you!" she said as she kissed my cheek, carefulnot to mess up my makeup. "You look gorgeous, honey!"Mrs. Estes appeared at my side as Mrs. Jackson took a step back. Herexpression was one of shock. "I don't believe it. I thought your motherwas playing some kind of game when. Thetransport crates were really uncomfortable even if you had been sedated first.Harry must have put in a good word for me. He rummaged in the work bag andpulled out a neatly folded pile of brown woollen cloth. As soon as he startedto unfold it I recognised it for what it was; a chanoosh. I?d seen them plenty of times before,working with some of Clegg?s Kushtian clients. The chanoosh was the traditionalrobe worn by Kushtian women; a floor length garment that covered the head andincluded a veil. She acts so staid, even on her night out, yet dresses to display herself sexily. Wide eyed innocence on a Playboy bunny's body. My instincts are pretty good by now, I just know she's repressing an erotic nature, the way a lot of young girls do. That's what makes it so much fun, so exciting.I'm getting carried away, feeling giddy the way I always do at the start. Let me begin at the beginning. I'm a pretty good looking guy, tall, slim, no gut even over forty. I do fifty situps a day, and thirty. .another cut delivered with vicious accuracy across becky’s ass, aimed low, and at an angle, stripping Becky low down across the top of her bound legs, and letting the tip of the whippy-ended birch rod ride up, just catching her across the puppy fat fuller cheekswell low down on her bottom. Becky was frantic, she let out a long low gasp of agony, then a series of fast paced loud objections, her pretty blond head turning from side to side rapidly, her mane sweeping across the polished oak table.