"Hmm, let me see if I can make this clearer to you," I said a bit snappishly. "No, nix, nine, not happening, no way... are you getting the idea, yet?"...Look, Frank, this guy is waving a lot of money at us. Besides, no one turns down John Royce. Are you nuts?" She asked me in the same edgy voice I had used."I don't care if it was the president, and he was doing his memoirs. I... am... busy! And that's that!" I said hanging up.I flipped the answering machine back on, and went to my studio to start. I told he rto go and get it, and she was back, momentarily, with a neatly wound bundle of standard white clothesline, in her hand.She again knelt in front of me and presented to me the clothesline, with both hands, and a look of utter desperation, and adoration, on her face. I was ecstatic! I was hoping to make a little money, painting this interior, and it looked as though I was gonna come out of this a damn site better. "Do you just want to be tied and fucked, or do you want to be whipped ,. More

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