Maid strapped into boob-clenching latex. Leashed and collared pet, kneeling nude by her water bowl, awaiting the ‘Come’ command. Some shape of art...st’s Muse–be it pastiche Disney princess, ballerina or burlesque star–for her lover to render in clay. Temporary mutations–none more ripe with connotation than this one.I’m dessert.Screened off, so Cherry might play hostess without spoiling her coup de theatre, Jaylee quaked in April’s mild chill. The apartment’s heating was low to minimize pre-melt.. She became more and more indistinct. Her skin and flesh lost all solidity. Her hair was like a cloud of dust.Then she scattered into discrete tiny particles that became ever more distant from one another as they lost shape and form. She soon vanished, but rather less abruptly than an Apparition, and all that was left was the damp spot where the water had passed through her body."Where are you, Beatrice?" pleaded Paul. "Please come back. Where have you gone?"There was no reply.Paul remained in. More

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