’ ‘Your panties Christina, where is the thong I tore from you?’ ‘Er,’ I started now feeling embarrassed as well as confused. ‘I’m still ...earing it?’ ‘But why, it’s torn.’ ‘It feels odd not to wear panties.’ ‘Ah such modesty, such conforming, such conditioning Chrissy, we will have to cure you of that’, he said kissing me again. ‘And you being a big boss in a bank as well?’ He went on breaking the kiss, holding my chin and fixing me with that amazingly intense stare of his stunning, but cold. It had seemed such a good idea at the time. They were at the firm's party and Juliet was clearly drunk. It had been so easy to take advantage of her: to persuade her to share a taxi, to bring her to her own house, put her in a vulnerable position and get revenge. Revenge for almost two years of being downtrodden, having to run all the errands, buy the sandwiches, fetch the coffee, and do all the shit jobs that nobody else wanted to do. And why did they do it? Because she had frizzy ginger. More

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