Fat Bruce took the drinks over and made no comment. On his return to the bar he whispered to Slack Sheila and they both cackled.“Another city sucker...out for some strong meat,” he murmured, coming round the front of the bar and sliding his pudgy fist inside Slack Sheila’s thighs.“I hope you washed that after you’d touched up Big Sheila? She looks like she’s in season if you ask me,” she added when he stuck his finger straight into her pantyless crotch.“So you’ve been in the stables this morning. I simply said, I don’t want to go back to Cragness.”“Aahh... ”“Understandable, isn’t it?”“Of course. Sorry...” Quentin ran a hand over Melissa’s smooth back. He recalled, suddenly, how much he had enjoyed whipping that back. Melissa had been the first woman he had ever whipped. Quickly Quentin switched his mind back to the present. He mustn’t think about Melissa in that way anymore. She was his wife. And soon she would be his slave-Mistress. “Rather tactless of me.”“Typical of a man,” said. More

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