“I looked over the urinals and saw it, but of course we can’t say every dog owner’s doing it can we.”“Are some Dog play area bosses doing it..... ?” she queried cheekily, an eyebrow raised and hitching her skirt.“Fuck yes, over here Mother,” he chuckled, shoving clear some mugs and plates on the huge refectory table. “I didn’t know you shaved your pussy, since when?” he queried, stuffing her skirt up round her hips, there were no pants, not surprising him, splaying her legs, crouching and peering. The image of Bradley’s corpse came unwillingly into my mind. 1SB41D1E. Once before I die.Too late, bastard.I didn’t bother to dry myself. Once I caught myself starting to drift off in the shower, I turned it off and flopped on my already wet bed. I was asleep in an instant.Damn. I haven’t had a nightmare and panic attack in months. Not since meeting Dag.No respiteSomething was thudding in my head. I covered it with a pillow and demanded that I go back to sleep. Then the ringing. My stupid. I went on in.'Put it on the table and follow me.'She led me to the stairs and I followed her up and into a bedroom. I could hardly believe my luck, but I didn't understand quite what was happening and I wasn't sure what to say. So I just kept quiet.'You've seen my underwear. Now it's my turn to see yours.''But Mrs. Robinson, I hardly know you.'She smiled again, recognizing the allusion. 'You call me Madame.''Okay, Madame,' I said lightly.'Yes, Madame,' she said and there was a little edge to. Nothing too risqué, Tara had to admit, and effectively a copy of what she wore at the athletics meet (albeit with the addition of the wrist bands). Tara at least knew now what Sasha would be wearing. The earpiece sprang to life. “Hello Tara. Welcome to The Game. We'll be staring proceedings in ten minutes, so why don't you ditch everything you came in, and try on the outfit we've provided.” Tara looked up at the man beside her, who paused for a moment, and then waved vaguely at what looked like.
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