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“Yes, Mistress?” she asks.I feel the coals of my rage flare again. I pull back my hand to slap her, but she flinches violently. I pause, hand stil... held mid-air. She’s afraid of me. I look at the cast on her hand and the bruise on her face.“I’m not your mistress,” I say. Her eyes look down. She’s disappointed. “I’m sorry,” I add. “I can’t be.”“Okay …” she says. It’s pathetic. God, is everything about her always so pathetic?I get down on my knees and lift her chin, looking her in the eye. “Hey,. It was a fine day to be alive, as shedrove over to Elm, to see her sister. Beau, her baby Sis's husband, wouldbe on patrol right now and Marybeth knew that Cynthia would be bored asusual. Time to see if we can have some fun around this old town shethought.Pulling into Cynthia's driveway a delicious plan entered Marybeth'sbrain. The house looked quiet, Cynthia would not be expecting anybody.Marybeth was amazed at how manly she felt. Her new body was hard andathletic and ready for action, and her. More

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