Without my asking, the aide beside me gives me her name and a brief outline of her background. Sasha Carr. A florist, born and bred in Serenity itself... her mother and father now passed on, living alone, no connections apart from friends. An interest in art and architecture, so no wonder her attention and awe in her surroundings. The flash of awareness the moment her crystal blue eyes met mine through her elegant, fine net mask, was enough to force me into movement, bowing low and guiding her. She can feel her pussy getting wet already. A hand slides over her ass and squeezes through her jeans, another slides over her pussy caressing it and giving it a slap. Struggling, she can barely move. Jesus Alison what the fuck have you gotten yourself into, she thinks to herself. “My dear . . .” Alison screams for all she is worth. All is quiet. “Is there a problem my dear?” Alison turns her head in the direction of the voice, seeing only darkness. “You disapprove of me referring to you as My. More

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