Exotic and haughty, it was the look of a woman confident in and comfortable with her own superiority. Her raven black hair…often worn loose and bill...wing down over her shoulders in loose curls…was now drawn up and tied into a long, tapered ponytail perched high on the back of her head. And her dark glittering eyes seemed capable of boring into a person’s soul and ferreting out their deepest, darkest secrets.“Are you ready, Anna?” Mistress Bianca asked softly.“Yes, Mistress.” Anna had been. Always have, I think I always will. Back in my twenties and early thirties, I was eyeing the teenagers with their wild, hungry eyes, brand new raging hormones and Weeble woodies. Weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down. I used to think that was a problem, that I was some sort of pedophile. But I don’t anymore. I know what it was that attracted me. It was that raw male energy, all shiny and new. It's what I like about the twenty something men now. Men my age seem to lose some of that. They slow. More

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