Although I mademy money in the computing industry, my principle interest for as long asI can remember has been in fine arts. I was going to open a gal...ery anddisplay the work of local artists - be that painting, sculpture,ceramics; so long as the work was good, I would give it space. I was veryfortunate in that I found a semi-derelict warehouse just off the mainshopping area in Peterborough. On three floors it was somewhat largerthan I needed but I could afford to buy it and planned to mothball. However, Jace was nowhere to be found. A light was on and a package of cold-cuts, mustard and bread were on the table, but no Jace."Ohhhhhh," a feminine moan came from the den. "Ahhhhhh. That's it. Yessssss."A trembly sensation raced up and down her spine. Phil and Melinda? She smiled, feeling like a schoolgirl again, spying on couples parked on Lovers Lane. However, these weren't two strangers. It was her brother and his wife. She stepped toward the door to the den, then stopped. She shook her. She felt good, firm and warm, and my usual urges began sending messages to my groin despite her apparent distress."They took everything," she moaned, clawing at my back, "stripped the farm. Come, come." She dragged me after her, holding my hand. A couple of hundred yards down the lane and over a small rise, we came her small, tidy house, and a shed, necessary and a barn badly in need of repair. There were no animals, not even chickens. A light-haired girl sat on the stoop, head in hands."This. "What's that?" I pointed with a giggle."Of that's Ingrid," he laughed and I could see that he wasn't at all embarrassed for me to see it."Don't tell me you've actually used that," I giggled again."Sure," he admitted, "she's a good obedient girl is my Ingrid." Well you don't need her anymore," I said, "you've got me." Tell you what," he laughed, "you can be my living doll." What do you mean?" I asked."You can be my Ingrid now," he said, "she doesn't move or speak but just lets me do anything I.
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