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"I think she needs to hear the speech from you about loose lips sinking ships. She not a gossip, but just to be sure, she needs to know what's out of bounds when it comes to information. Especially considering how sensitive and personal some of it is." Good thinkin'. I think we can get her started right away, then you can judge for yourself if anythin' we don't expect shows up. You certain she can run the database?" Yes. Absolutely no problem. She was involved on the design team, remember. Why don't you call her? She'll be sitting on pins and needles waiting to hear."He smiled and picked up the phone. By the sound of it, Doreen had barely returned to her desk when she answered. By Rance's reaction, she was excited and couldn't wait to get started. Rance decided next Monday would be soon enough. We had other priorities this week.Buster Rhimes arrived on Thursday evening, and Rance and I met him at the airport. I wasn't prepared for the man that approached Rance with a giant smile and. A few pointed or giggled behind their hands. I heard snatches of conversation. “…the one Dr. Johnson had to spank!” “…led like a naughty little child!” “Her man is super hot!” “…shame…” At the checkout desk, Master told me to sit and wait for him as he got the prescription. I reluctantly let go of Master’s hand and walked over the row of chairs. I knew my ass would hurt if I sat down. I was slowly lowering myself down, when Master turned to me and laughed. I was hovering over the chair, postponing contact with it for as long as I could. My ass was sticking out, my knees were bent. “What are you doing, slut?” I stood up at his use of the word in public. “I uh—" “Is there something wrong with the chair?” he asked smiling. “No, Sir. Nothing with the chair…” I said, my face flushing to match the glow in my ass. He stopped smiling and said, “SIT DOWN.” His voice was so stern; I sat down like a shot. Tiny spears of pain shot through my ass cheeks and thighs as I made contact with the.
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Two guys, occasionally another, and sometimes a woman or two. The women changed, but the guys were the same. About a month after I'd moved in, I was out for my run and caught up with a tall guy who looked, from behind, like the occasional pool player. When I caught up, I said hi and a conversation developed. His name was Frank, and it was the pool player. He invited me to stop and play a game sometime. I'm not much of a pool player, but I enjoy it sometimes. After thinking about it that afternoon, I decided to stop in a couple of days later.Unbeknownst to me, Frank had reported back to the other guys. They'd been watching me, and sent Frank out for a run to meet up. When I did drop in, we hit it off pretty well. They were all recent retirees; one (Bill) was married and a former insurance agent. Tom was a programmer, divorced, and Frank had been a manufacturing manager, also a widower. The conversation wandered all over, including the usual boastful remarks about who had.

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