I looked at the lock. One of those high-tech things. I commented.“Works great for just this occasion,” he said. “Just drop the bag. Let me let P...ckles out.” He put the pet carrier on the floor, opening the door. Pickles glared.“He’s mad at me for uprooting him. Cats don’t like change.”I squatted down to Pickles’ level. “Poooooor kitty...” Over my shoulder I told him, “Go do your thing. I’m good here.”As Josh walked out of the room, Pickles exited his carrier, pushing his round head into my. Our conversations were mostly harmless for the first few months and then we discovered our naughty side. They started out simply with me asking her what kind of panties she was wearing or what color her bra was at the time, and eventually progressed to asking her to finger herself for me and play with random objects. The first time I asked her it was 12:30 at night, “Christy I have a small question I would like to ask you.” She was quiet for a second and then with a slight hesitation in her. More

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