Bridget crossed her legs and sat back, one leg within Cyril’s line of sight, the heel tapping lightly against the chair as she took a sip and forced herself to relax.  Tension had no place with a client.  She wasn’t paid to be tense and terse with Cyril, no matter what others might believe.  She was paid to give him a moment of peace, of security and of pleasure.  A moment when he had no power, and yet held the ultimate power to stop everything with one single word.<br/><br/>She let the silence linger for a long moment, tension building to an almost visible level as she casually sipped her tea and watched Marissa watching Cyril.  Part of her was surprised that Marissa had come back, let alone taken a seat and accepted the offer of tea.  It was a good sign, she thought.  A sign that perhaps she loved her husband enough to at least try.<br/><br/>Finally she reached over with her free hand and ran her fingers through Cyril’s short hair, her nails lightly scraping along his scalp. It was an affectionate gesture, but one more suited to a pet than a person.  It showed ownership, dominance and the acknowledgement she knew he desired all in one.  “Why don’t we start with any questions you might have, Marissa?  I think you both need a bit of time to adjust to my presence before any… demonstrations.”<br/>