Would she be pretty? Kind? Would she like him? He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone that he had never met before, with som...one whose full name he didn’t yet know. But that was the way of things, it was his culture, his family’s tradition. Like an ox plowing a paddy, Satou had to drag around so much responsibility, and now the promise of marriage had added another crushing weight to that burden. He had to do it, for his family and for his shoen, so why did he feel so. Darcie gave me one of her nasty syrupy shits, then I lost it. Lying on my back, I must have puked a gallon up all over my face and down the drain under the back of my head."What the fuck?" Darcie screamed. But she must have known that Francesca had diarrhea all night. She reached up to get that leather strap."I'm sorry Mistress Darcie," I said, my mouth still filled with my puke that tasted like Francesca's diarrhea. "Mistress Francesca had diarrhea all night, and I just lost it. Please forgive. He'd given them his number, and they'd said they would call today. Today was his one shot at making it big, at recording an album, at becoming a real live musician. It wouldn't have been a hobby anymore, millions of people would have heard him, heard his voice, heard his art. His blood started to boil the more he looked at his phone, it was out of its case, a $600 phone that he'd saved for months to get, and saved even more to make sure it was protected. It would be one thing if it was an. Brett took up the whip while Olga, watching me through her large, exotic eyes, said:"One hundred lashes," she paused briefly for unneeded effect, "on her back, and thighs." Are you crazy?" I interrupted, "there is no way she can take that!" Yes she can," Brett simply said.I could see in Olga's face that she wasn't as sure of that as her husband."It has all been arranged already Pete. She agreed to all of this," then, to Lynette, she added. "Count them dear."Lynette nodded, "I'm ready," she said.
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