And no man would ever pull the wool over her eyes again. Not that she had to worry with Phillip--he wasn't the sort. Wild perhaps, like all artists ar..., in some way or another, but sweet and warm and gentle. Not like so many men she'd met since embarking on this career. Not like the Marty Felder's of this world.Of course, there hadn't been any job offer forthcoming from that horrible Felder. All she could thank that filthy pervert for was the chance at an interview with William Dodge. That much. “There is always the Workhouse.” I replied, “Come to bed, Katherine, it is Katherine is it not, sweet Katherine.”“I have always strived to be a good chaste girl, this is not of my choosing,” she exclaimed rather lamely for someone so desperate for a good pounding.With apparrent reluctance she came with me to my bed chamber. It was cold so we climbed into my big four posted bed and pulled the curtains shut to keep out the world. I slipped off my shirt and breeches and slipped shivering. More

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