The Mysistershotfriend Yesmaster

     How far could mysistershotfriend he push this mysistershotfriend?
     "Yes, Mr. Bennett," Rhonda mysistershotfriend said. She giggled and began peeling off mysistershotfriend her brassiere, undulating and humming a little strip-club tune to online herself. She dangled the garment in front of him briefly, then threw it away. After that, she went still again, beautiful boobs swaying mysistershotfriend freely mere inches from his mysistershotfriend face.
     "No, Rhonda," Paul mysistershotfriend said mysistershotfriend. "You won't online tell anyone. Any time mysistershotfriend you try, you'll mysistershotfriend forget all about it before you say or write a word." He smiled maliciously. "And you mysistershotfriend'll take off your shirt and bra, too, and keep them off for at mysistershotfriend least five minutes. Besides," the evil mysistershotfriend smile grew wider, "even if I let you, what would mysistershotfriend you tell them?"
     "Yes, master," came mysistershotfriend the reply. Then, a flicker online of defiance: "You sick jerk, you'll never get away with--"
     His eyes fell on the expensive watch on the mysistershotfriend doctor's mysistershotfriend right mysistershotfriend wrist. A gold mysistershotfriend Rolex, it undoubtedly cost more than he made in three months as an insurance salesman mysistershotfriend. Why shouldn't he have mysistershotfriend one?
     Jasmine nodded her head.
     "Very good mysistershotfriend, Jasmine. Now finish up online your nurse's duties here and go on with your rounds."
     Paul mysistershotfriend recalled an mysistershotfriend old mysistershotfriend line from the comics he'd read as a kid: "With great power comes great mysistershotfriend responsibility." It had always struck him as corny mysistershotfriend, but now mysistershotfriend--.
     Suppressing mysistershotfriend the urge to ask her mysistershotfriend what she mysistershotfriend wanted to talk about--it mysistershotfriend didn't matter mysistershotfriend, after all, not now --he answered, "On my way mysistershotfriend, Ms. Sands." He got up and walked casually over to her mysistershotfriend office, opened the door mysistershotfriend and went in. Carefully, he shut mysistershotfriend the door behind him and sat down in the chair next to her desk.
     Ms. Sands picked a folder off her mysistershotfriend desk mysistershotfriend and waved it at him. "This is a cancellation request from Mrs. Sylvia Cortez. A half mysistershotfriend-million-dollar account. She says you mysistershotfriend screwed up by insuring only her and not her mysistershotfriend husband as well. And mysistershotfriend while you were out on your little vacation"--Paul flushed mysistershotfriend angrily, but said nothing--"he died. And under the policy you got her to buy, she mysistershotfriend gets zip.
     "I think mysistershotfriend you should stop mysistershotfriend worrying about it mysistershotfriend, Charlene," Paul instructed her. "I'll take care of Mrs. Cortez mysistershotfriend."
     "Of course not, Charlene," Paul responded. Charlene whimpered and mysistershotfriend trembled, and as mysistershotfriend he turned to go, she almost called out for him to stay.
     And this was just the beginning.