“How did things go with Doctor Mercer today?” I asked.“Fine,” Bethany said.“Just fine? Did you tell her about our date?”“Yes. She thinks...I’m moving way too fast. She’s worried about me. But it’s been two years. I need to get past this. I do.”“She’s trying to help you. We’re both trying to help you. Don’t you think you should listen to her advice?”“I do,” Bethany said. “I usually follow it. But in this case, I have my mind made up. I’m absolutely sure what I want.”“Care to let me in on this?” I. .A little high-pitched shriek from Cathy shocked me out of my stunned reverie. She rushed over to sit beside me, her hands cradling my head, caressing my dirty black hair with no reservation. She looked happy. Her touch was electrifying and her appearance somehow different.No. She looked the same, but she evoked new ... feelings inside me. Feelings I had no experience with, feelings I couldn’t decipher.I struggled to get words out of my mouth. I only succeeded in groaning.In my defence, it was. When they rounded a bend, Sam sucked in her breath as Amy said, "Welcome to my home Sam." The house was huge compared to Sam's. Amy got out once more and opened one door of the four car garage. She drove the Charger in and when they got out of it she handed the keys to Sam once more.Sam was speechless and just looked at the three other cars that shared the garage. One was a vintage Ford mustang convertible that looked to be in showroom condition, a Porsche 911 that looked brand new sat next to. ” The submissive guide led us down a dark and winding staircase to the dungeon. Ever protective, Master stood behind me with His hand on my shoulder, so as to make sure I did not fall in my heels. I expected the dungeon to smell dank and musty, but surprisingly it did not – it smelled like leather, wood and fresh paint; reminiscence of my grandfather’s garage while I was growing up. At the bottom of the staircase, there were wooden stocks, used in medieval times for torture, public.
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