‘That bad, huh?’ Dylan asked. ‘Yeah, that bad.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘Yep.’ Phil trailed off. ‘So, what do we do?’ ‘How the hell did this ha...pen?’ Dylan asked, becoming agitated. He felt the choking feeling creeping up on him again. ‘Well, the thing is…’ Phil started looking embarrassed, shuffling papers on his desk. ‘What?’ Dylan asked. ‘Well, the thing is, I sorta kinda maybe told Bob that it was your fault.’ Phil ducked, afraid Dylan would strike. ‘You – you did what?’ Dylan asked shocked. Had he heard. I'd make you bend over like a french maid and pick up your clothes from the floor, and even stick a feather duster in your ass and make you dust, both of which have you thinking now and your asshole is probably buzzing already. It truly is ridiculous that I can just mention this shit and you are ready to stick that ass up in the air, like a cat in heat. I would not only have you clean that place up, in that pretty, pink thong... I would then have you put on a pair of high heels and put make up. More

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