Her eyes were the color of roaring campfires and golden sunsets, and even as Bobby was becoming lost in them, mesmerized, this incredible woman spoke ...o him. ‘Bobby, finally…I’ve been waiting for you.’ Her voice was pitched low, and had a sort of grisliness to it…it reminded Bobby of a middle-aged smoker’s, only somehow much more…tawdry. Much more…seductive. ‘We don’t have much time. I know you will have questions, many questions, but for now all I can tell you…is that we need your help.’ No. "He lives at 25 Wiltshire Crescent, if you would like toget in touch with his stepmother. I'll give you her number later." Ohhhh!" gasped Jason. Why on earth was she telling these women hisaddress? "Miss Presswell!" he cried. She had suddenly widened his ordeal,from boutique sissy to... well, to being a sissy outside Pretty Boy aswell. Miss Presswell and his stepmother must have worked this out overthe phone. His right leg slid across his left in a spasm of defeat andhis free hand covered his. More

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