Those slippers were leather mounted, thick leather, from the hide of the whackosaurus for all I knew. I thought of Monique’s bottom and all those stripes. A slipper on those would be unadulterated misery. Lil seeing them would prompt questions I really did not have answers for. Revealing those welts might bring hell down around our ears.
I threw in the towel, and prepared myself for a whacking from hell. “I seduced her,” I admitted.
“You were trouble the moment you walked through my front door,” she stated quite correctly. “I should have turned you away then. But this does not excuse Monique. She is as much to blame for your sick canoodling as you are.”
She pushed a king sized mitt under Frenchie’s arm and levered, but the blonde would not give that easily.
“What you do?” she screamed
