The Pleasure Slave
Chapter One
Sante Fe, New Mexico
Ways Of The Pleasure Slave
The Slightest Whim Of Your Master
Is Your Highest Law
THE BLARE OF A HORN SOUNDED. Again.
Julia Anderson gripped the wheel of her sedan and glanced down at her speedometer. Six miles
per hour over the speed limit. The driver behind her found this completely unacceptable and
honked yet again, a demand that she get out of the way or hit the gas.
The morning sun had yet to make an appearance, but the waning moon and towering streetlights
revealed two open, easily accessible lanes. There was no reason to ride her tail like this.
Still the honking persisted for another mile.
By that time, Julia's nerves were frazzled and her foot was shaking on the gas pedal. She rolled
her shoulders and drew in a deep breath, but neither action managed to relax her. She cranked
up the volume on La Bohème.
That didn't help, either.
I'm a calm, rational woman, she reminded herself. I will not become unnerved by a little
honking.
Honk. Honk. Hoooonk.
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