She was barefoot, her sandals on the floor by her purse next to a chair.She saw me reflected in the window and screamed as she spun around. I held up my gun and growled, “Chupp Saali, nahi to goli maar doonga!”Tears were streaming down her almost pretty face. “Please goli nahi chalana! God, please maro nahi mujhe!” I waved my gun and she ran down the hall past a half dozen closed doors before running into the last one, a dark office with a big oak desk and fine leather furniture. The boss’ office, I guess. I grabbed her by the arm and threw her face-down over the desk. I grabbed out a pair of cuffs and slapped them on her wrists, making her cry out. Using the cuffs I tossed her to the floor and slapped another pair on her ankles. I tore off a strip of book tape about three feet long and wrapped it around her head a couple of times, so she couldn’t yell anymore. Hell, she’s lucky she could breathe. I picked her up like a sack of potatoes and tossed her onto the leather couch.I stepped. Unfortunately she had seen me staring at her several times tonight. As the wine I’d been drinking vanished down the sewers, I fantasized about what I'd like to do to her. Rumor had it she came from Denmark, and if that was true then maybe a trip to Copenhagen wasn't such a bad idea. As I washed my hands contemplating Mrs Davidson, I heard the restroom door open. Looking over my shoulder and my jaw went slack. There she was. Her chest seemed more pronounced than ever and with every stride she took, the opening down the middle of her gown revealed a massive amount of stocking clad thigh. I gulped and turned to face her, shaking the water from my hands. "Mrs Davi... What are doing here?" I stammered nervously as she approached. Now I knew how the Saxons felt when the Vikings came to pillage and plunder. "You have been very naughty boy, haven’t you, watching me, getting me all hot and bothered, and not even coming over to introduce yourself." I began stammering an apology but her.
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