Matilda.She was going to get to spend the night with Matilda.Carlotta didn’t doze, not even for a moment. Instead, she lay in bed, thinking of the y...oung waitress, wishing she knew more about her. When did she start working for the cafe? How long had they been in each other’s life?Had she ever mentioned having a girlfriend?When Carlotta’s alarm went off, she was already up, rifling through her wardrobe, trying to find the perfect outfit. An outfit that said “Yes, of course I want to fuck you”. I soon also realized that this entire think is making me think about my body; I can think and feel about every inch of my body. It?s a wonderful yet a painful experience. I want to continue experiencing it, at the same time I wish it would end. My body was now playing games with my mind.I was startled by the sound of the door opening; I could hear my mistress talking to someone on her phone. After about 5 minutes she kept the phone. She circled me once, probably looking at me and evaluating me. I hoped I couldconvince her to let me unlock her not too infrequently. I idly fingeredthe key around my neck. I wondered what I would if she asked me to takethings further, knowing deep in my heart that if she wanted a trulypermanent chastisement, I could make that happen with my milling andmodeling skills, but I still didn't understand her fetish at that point.My dreams were troubled as hers were erotic.The next morning, I awoke to a very pleasant sensation as Claire put herwonderful lips to. And those certain men seemed to always want a rough encounter. Apparently, Indian blood meant ‘I like it rough’. Once, she made the mistake of telling a client that her Great, Great Grandfather was from the Seminole tribe. When he jokingly called her a Semen Hole Indian he suffered a surprise attack and barely escaped with his scalp. This time, with significant money in the balance, she moaned with feigned excitement, closed her eyes and lied. ‘I’m Cheyenne, silly.’ Clumsy fingers worked.