<div class="floatleft"><div align="center">(http://www.mediafire.com/convkey/132c/qanv0vlare944wbzg.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>Jaclyn Rosendahl</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">Entrepreneur<br/><em>About Jaclyn</em> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=289408.msg14241614#msg14241614)<br/>‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾</span></span></div></div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… ‘pet’ ... that and ‘little one’ … tremble a little … like those yet don't know why … not that ‘b’ word! … Dianne called me ‘pet’ too … do I amuse her? …  does my presence comfort her? … am I to be trained as a service pet? … something about that feels attractive … tiny shiver …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… she agrees about denial … and more about what one can become addicted to … the brain and its stimulus to trained responses is all about our basic behavior … and can be used and abused by those who know how to train other's minds … the perversions humans can be incited to are well known in today's politics and religions …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… going to serve Dianne … did I do that? … not that way yet … oh! …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… her pointed foot touches the front of my blouse over my clavicle … a light, air touch … a touch that has th ehair on the back of my neck and arms stand up … my skin feels alive … and my nipple hardens more … moving as in a dream, my hand rises from my thigh to caress her foot … the lace ruffle at at the wrist traces behind my fingertips as my hand pays gentle tribute to Mistress' wonderful touch … what did she ask? … oh … my hand continues to pet her foot …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Please excuse me Mistress, I did not ‘go to serve’ Mistress, um, du Monde. She sought me out in the Westin bar there in George Town on Grand Cayman. She came to me and blackmailed me with my bank troubles and the stolen paper. I, um, it would be most accurate I feel to say I went along with her manipulation willingly yet I was under duress, too. And the second time in my suite back in Las Vegas, she came to me too. I must say that then I was most willing to serve her though the circumstances did not lend themselves to such things other than to serve each other by aiding our escape from the building's destruction. I knew the back passages, she had the helicopter come and rescue us.”</span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… pause and realize I'm still caressing her foot … continue to do so …</em></span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">“You have lovely feet, Mistress. Attractive if I may say so. If I'm not intruding, have you had your tendons shortened?”</span></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>… turn my head to look at her foot … and how the heart shaped cutout in the front is warped slightly by it's touch … and how my blouse is stretched … and how this all has me getting damp again down there …</em></span></span><br/>