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I've told Joyce, and I've told Emily and Brenda both, that I can't go along with what they all say they want. It won't work. I know it won't work, because we've tried it before and it didn't work then. I haven't stopped looking for a way that will work, but I haven't come up with anything that I think might work yet." I've set it up for all of us to go out to the country club dance on Saturday. Joyce, Shirley, Brenda, Emily and Cindy have all agreed to be there. All we expect from you is for you to show up and be pleasant company again." You really think going out to a dance with them is going to accomplish anything?" I couldn't believe he was wasting my time with something as hare brained as this. These were real problems we were having. Problems that wouldn't just go away because we were all sitting together, dancing and listening to some music. This was so unlike my father too. I suspected that he'd been put up to it by either Mama or Joyce."You need to keep an open mind. The best. She woke up at 6 am, showered, shaved again to ensure no stubble, dressed asif she was going to school, and headed for the mall. After a day of shopping,she managed to find a blue plaid schoolgirl skirt, knee-highs, and shoes. Shespent all day with her outfit in the car, driving around, thinking, and debatingher course of action. She even went to a local bookstore and bought a bookon bondage and submission. Sheri found a coffee shop near campus, and spentthe remainder of her day reading storied from dominants and submissives abouttheir feelings, experiences, and encounters. While this gave her a few pointers,and a bit more of an introduction to the language, none of her reading helpedSheri gather her nerve for the coming evening. She just needed to decide. At2:30 pm, she went on campus, as she had no idea where Chris' house was, andhe had not included any directions in his letter, and she followed him to hislast class. Waiting outside from a discreet distance, and trying not to.
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She kept looking at me, then turning her eyes away. Then back. She was wearing a simple little shift with thin straps like a full slip. It might have been silk. I could see her shoulders and her arms and her legs just above her knees, the tops of her breasts, and it seemed Richard had half-lied to me. She was thin, thinner even than in the photos. I'd expected that. What didn't I expect? Almost anything else. My image of her had been as a survivor of Auschwitz. She was nothing like that. She was leaner and more nicely muscled than showed in the jpeg picture, as though she worked out a lot. There were no obvious bruises on her body, none at all. She was perfect."Alice, Henry. Henry, Alice. You two have met." Richard was beaming. Had he ever been worried about the madman with the gun? "Henry here has become impatient. He wants to hear from you directly, love, in detail, that it is true you have left him to be with me. I'm afraid he's insistent, so this can't be put off any more. You'll.

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