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" she began to object, but she could not muster the strength when faced with the piercing, yet still kindly, gaze of the shopkeeper."No, my dear, do not object. Evil of this residue leaves psychic... marks," the shopkeeper said, choosing his words carefully. He carefully watched the girl's reaction to the word "mark." A quick glance downward to her arm was enough to confirm what he had read in her aura."Suppose," he said, "that with one sip from something as simple as... as that teacup, you could begin your life anew in a loving home. And I would ensure that what was done to you would never be done again."The storekeeper watched the girl's fearful expression carefully. He saw, in the corner of her eyes, a glimmer of hope begin to form."I will be frank, dear. One sip of that tea will restore you to infancy. And I will insure that you are adopted by a loving family, and I will see that your current parents are... taken care of."The girl glanced down, and then shut her eyes. She reached. The next text I received stated, "be here at 7, wear slutty makeup, do not wear panties and bring toys". I honestly read and re-read that message several times, my pussy clinching tightly each time and the moisture from it soaking my panties and clothing. After work I rushed home showered and dressed, tossed an assortment of toys into a bag and knocked on his door at exactly 7, all my senses on alert. We sat and talked, drinking and laughing like two old friends for several hours and we were both pretty relaxed when the toys were brought out. I opened the bag, not entirely sure of what I had tossed in, and spread them across his kitchen island. There were the small vibrators, an egg, a larger vibe still in it's packaging (the size of it disturbed me so I had never used it or the anal beads that lay next to it, still in their package as well), a baggie of clothes pins, tweezer clamps, clover clamps and a snake bite kit. After testing the clamps, he chose the tweezer clamps and.
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I mean… Do I invest it long term, short term, or what?’ ‘Don’t push, Gentner. You’re going to come out of this smelling like a rose.’ Conrad burped on cue. ‘That’d be better than I smell now.’ Harrigan walked Conrad through the various ways in which he could safely invest his money, and how much he would derive from each method. They were almost all designed to keep him from ever declaring the money, except for certain investments, for which to be prudent he would have to declare at least some, if not all of the interest. ‘I thought I didn’t have to declare a dime,’ Conrad said. ‘Sometimes declaring something is best,’ Harrigan said, flipping the cigarette into the bushes across from where they sat. ‘I’m a greedy bastard,’ Conrad said, and waited. ‘Well…’ Harrigan said, and paused. ‘If you gotta have the whole enchilada and more…’ Obviously interested in this tack, Conrad said, ‘Yeah?’ ‘Heroin, cocaine… other pharmaceuticals, they all pay very well.’ ‘How well?’ ‘Done properly, maybe.

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