She had a pretty if somewhat chubby face, which was suntanned from working in the garden centre all summer and she wore no make-up except for a pale p...ink lipstick. She was short and quite plump with large tits that jiggled when she walked and bounced up and down when she laughed. Her hair was dark brown and shoulder length. She normally wore it loose, but tonight had twisted it into pony tail which was turned up and held with a coloured band so that the end stood up like a shaving brush at the. But had he really come here looking for the Fourth, or had he just come home? He couldn't answer. He was too tired to ask himself the question.The only thing he knew was that he was so happy to be home that it crowded out almost every other thought. Almost -- it didn't stop him from wondering if Marcy was there, and how she would receive him.Marcy was... what? She was his slave, and she was his lover. She was the woman he thought about in the long lonely nights. She had once saved his life, and. Then put on what's in the pouch, and I'll let you in."Lacey glanced around, and saw a small pouch hanging off the doorknob. First, it was time to change. She undressed, and replaced her normal clothes with her pair of fishnet arm gloves, fishnet stockings, and black wig. After placing her boy clothes in her bag, she reached for the pouch, and looked inside to find 2 leather restraints, a collar, and a ball gag. Carefully placing the collar on, she noticed it read "Daddy's Whore", and a small. "Well, that didn't do a lot for my ego," said Warstrike, gazingruefully at the remains of his gun."You've still got plenty of ego left, Brandon," I said, snidely.Warstrike was actually multi-millionaire Brandon Tark. I'vealways assumed he did the whole Warstrike thing for kicks, 'did'being the operative word."Didn't you retire?" I asked."Yeah," he said. "When I had that precognitive flash showingWarstrike, showing me, as a tyrant, my rule built on a pile ofskulls, what other choice did I have?.