Of course, Diana thought to herself. He’d been up for two nights in a row already and had obviously used his last stores of energy just now. Diana...began to gently shake him by the shoulders but then stopped.That’s not what a good little slave-girl would do, she thought to herself. Instead she eased him back so that he slumped against the back of his chair, his head lolling to one side, then used her aching legs to rise to her feet, reaching down as she did so to grasp and remove the condom. I got stuck in the end of the evening rush hour traffic and then my GPS managed to get me lost along the surface streets around her Bywater neighborhood. At 31, Abby had her own design studio in a converted warehouse overlooking the river a few blocks from the French Quarter, catering to the new arts sceen that had sprung up after Katrina as well as locals who hung around. She came in right before the hurricane and made a name for herself during the rebuilding. When I found the address she gave. More

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