’ ‘And what is that?’ Desiree asked as she folded her arms in front of her again. She watched as a smile crept into the corners of his mouth. Sh... hoped she hadn’t gotten herself into something she couldn’t get out of. ‘Go change your clothes.’ ‘No.’ ‘Fine then lets go. I don’t have all day to fuck around with you. I’m hungry.’ Desiree smiled as she picked up her purse and marched past Gabriel. She was smiling because she thought she won. ~*~*~ Gabriel fought to keep his eyes on the road as he. He knew he was not worthy of touching his Mistress herself, but somehow the chair and James shared a bond. The chair had held the weight of his Mistress, asking no favour but to serve; seeking no acknowledgement, only use; craving no thanks beyond having fulfilled Her need. The chair and himself were near equals; James could share a small part of Her divine presence through paying homage to this object which, had it a consciousness to register such a fact, had known the sheer bliss of servitude. More

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