As she began to close the door, Stacey noticed what appeared to be a memo crumpled up in the wastebasket. Spurred on by curiosity, she walked in, bent...down and plucked the piece of paper from the trash. She unfolded and pressed it flat against the top of the desk as she read from it. To Stacey Bates: 11:45 a.m. I’ve been imagining the two of us in my large leather office chair. You’re sitting in my lap with an orange in your hands. I take it and carefully pull the peel away. We rock back and. My heart beat in my throat. I was terrified. Still I crept closer, pulled deeper by something exciting but indefinable. I’d heard whispered talk, I’d had dreams, tingling, exciting dreams based on those whispers … I had to see! I hid myself behind a leafy bush that would give me a good view through the leaves: close enough to feel like a part of the party, to hear everything, to smell the crackling fire and musky scent of arousal but removed enough to be safe, I hoped. My first view burst on. I continued to scream into the gag, wishing more than anything to recant my consent, to regain my freedom, but John continued with his act and slapped me again, this time harder than he had ever slapped me before. I began to cry. "There there, girl. No need for tears." John reach his right hand up to my face and swept away the forming tears. "I have plenty planned for us. Just you wait and see." He turned around and walked to the closet of our guest bedroom, which had turned into a. “Also, baby, what you’ve been doing today has been a total turn-on.”Wayne could only spit out a “What??” as Lana broke in. “OK places y’all, we gotta put on a li’l show in the next 30 seconds.”There were a few more loud slams and the door finally broke. Three Bobs entered the cafeteria, guns raised, searching right and left for the intruders.The tableau that greeted them was entirely unexpected.At the back of the cafeteria a space had been cleared around a single table. On it the experimental.
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