‘In the flesh!’ Jacques squealed. ‘Well, hello!’ His voice was pitched higher than Cady’s and she couldn’t help but smile at his high clas..., New York accent. ‘This must be her…’ he shot Molly an excited look and walked over to the younger girl, embracing her in a back breaking hug. Caden didn’t return it. She was still shocked. Jacques Baker had just hugged her. Jacques. Baker. One of the most famous art gallery owners in the good ol’ U. S. of A had just hugged her–no, suffocated her, and she. So wrong, yet so good. So immoral, yet so exciting. So absolutely humiliating, yet so inevitably thrilling, were Catherine’s jumbled thoughts. ?Nice cunt hair but it has to go, a good slave should be clean shaven Sean. See to it Joan. What about marking her Sean?? Now it was Sean’s hand sliding between the bars of Catherine’s cage, and just as she had on the previous occasions her pulse thumped even harder in her rib cage when his fingers gently stroked, pulled and squeezed both. More

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