Catherine was taken aback by the kiss on her hand, notwithstanding by a woman. Only the older generation of men or those trying to impress her father had ever kissed her hand before. She asked the waiter for iced water with a slice of lemon and waited for him to return. She’d not drink anything alcoholic tonight, she’d need her wits about her certainly, but the main reason was that she wanted to feel and appreciate every single sensation to its absolute maximum.<br/><br/>“Thanks” she said simply as the waiter returned.<br/><br/>"I like to think of the tournament as the opportunity to expand ones sexual boundaries with poker as the means to an end and money as the price of being offered such a privilege."<br/><br/>“This competition will give me something that is missing in my life. When someone ties me down and fucks my brains out, I want it to be because he, or she,” she raised her glass to Ariel, “wants to not because I’ve asked them. There is nothing so limp as the cock of a half-hearted sadist or that of a reluctant slave. Plus,” she added, “I’ve never in my wildest dreams imagined half of this equipment, and can’t wait to try it out.”<br/>