Chapter Eighteen
Over the past six months; Robin Beswick’s life had become unrecognisable from any semblance of a life he had ever read or heard of –and, had he been familiarised with such a life in the third-person- the prospect of ever being forced to live with its consequences himself would have been regarded with less belief than the risible science-fiction films of the fifties his friend Nigel had collected at one time – much to the amusement of his two friends and golfing companions.
Since that fateful night, he had been forced to perform the unthinkable and service the private parts of his wife, her friend Mandy, and the black b***h who could now bring him to his knees with no more than a sharp look, so great was his terror of her. He had also been forced to taste, suck, and pay h
