‘I have been on a diet for the last sixteen years.’ She explained to me. ‘I can’t afford to put on weight, the male dancers wouldn’t be able...to lift me. I might just pinch some of that lettuce though.’ She reached across and pulled out a single leaf from the sandwich, crunching it without enthusiasm. I was wearing a dinner jacket and black bow-tie, she was wearing a simple pale gold, long dress which even to my untrained eye looked Haute Couture and very expensive. We were sitting in a little. She's biting her lower lip, frowning, eyes wet, but doesn't mutter a word. She knows he's right. With the pictures at his hand there's nothing else she can do but obey whatever he wants her to do. "Take off your top. Let me see your tits." I gasp in silence. What? What is he doing now? Chloe hesitated for a second, but not for long. She starts to move her hands around her waist to pull up her white tank top. "Wait, leave the shirt on. Just take off the bra." After Chloe removes her bra, he. More

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