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he made Grace’s mouth water. The blond batted her eyes and smiled seductively and Grace found herself wishing it was her.
    Get over it, Kinison. He’s not Toffer. And that’s who you want. You want Toffer, your Master, the man who stood you in the corner today . She shifted her gaze back to the two men sitting next to Peter. They were both in their mid-thirties or early-forties, which would make them about the age of her new Master. Both men were attractive enough, dark-headed with bright smiles.
    She closed her eyes and tried to picture each one of them with a flogger in his hands. Neither man fit her picture of her Master. The camera panned to the second table where everyone seemed older than what she had thought her Master would be. A third table of LA349 actors and workers provided one more man for her consideration; this one a blond.
    A search of her imagination showed that she could see this man with a flogger in his hands, see him attaching a collar around her neck. She shivered and pulled her robe closer. A smile flittered across her face and then, suddenly, an image of Drake Dawson took center stage in her brain.
    He was wearing tight blue jeans and a dark T-shirt. One hand was on his hip and the other one was pointing toward the floor, where he expected her to kneel. She could easily see the handsome man as Master, and a powerful one at that.
    She closed her eyes and felt his hand caress her cheek as she knelt, the words “good girl” floating through the air. Grace shook her head. Right. Toffer wasn’t Drake Dawson. A man like Drake Dawson didn’t hide behind an alias. Every woman in the U.S. wanted to get into his pants, and from the looks of the beautiful woman sitting next to him, he was loving every minute of it.
    Grace sighed. It had been a mistake to try and put a face to her Master. For her, at this moment, it was more important what he did for her mentally than physically. She turned the TV off and went back to her computer to write.
    * * * * *
    His cock was hard, again. And it had nothing to do with the beautiful blond sitting next to him. It had to do with Grace. All he could think about was her naked, standing in the corner. Toffer shifted in his chair and flashed one of his famous smiles at Giselle, the said blond, a stunning model who was instantly recognized by the utterance of her first name only. She was in a tiff because she’d offered to give him a blowjob on the way to the roast and he’d declined. He didn’t want another woman sucking on his dick. He wanted Grace.
    The roast couldn’t end quickly enough. He wanted to get home and check his e-mail, see how Grace’s first day of standing in the corner for him had gone; See how hard her little clitty had become while she played with it at his request.
    Toffer had spent more than $1,000 on toys. He’d had a box shipped to Grace, and a box shipped to his house for when she was in
California
. He couldn’t wait to see her pussy filled by the glass cock he’d found. The cuffs and harness would fit perfectly. And the flogger would leave beautiful marks on her behind.
    He shifted in his seat again and gave a token clap when the first speaker took the stage. Under the table Giselle’s hand landed on his knee and began inching toward his cock. He put his hand down and grabbed hers, leaning over as if to kiss her ear.
    “Don’t.”
    “Why?” Giselle pouted. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve jacked you off at one of these boring events. This will make the time fly faster.”
    She tried to free her hand and Toffer held it fast.
    “I said, don’t.”
    “If you’re going to be a stick in the mud, then I’m leaving,” Giselle hissed into his ear. “I want some dick. The only reason I came to this boring thing was the thought of playing with your cock before, during, and after. I expect a good fuck tonight.”
    “Sorry, you’ll have to go and find someone else to fuck you.”
    Ever the show person, Giselle sat back and smiled