~GOD! this balmy little git gets my knickers in SUCH a twist,~ Beatrix thought to herself as Mr. Thompson droned on and on and on about punctuality, responsibility, respect and self improvement. She could SWEAR he himself was only half paying attention to the words spewing from his mouth and would NOT allow herself to imagine what disgusting thoughts were playing through his dirty little piggy mind of his. Still, she endured it all knowing what was at stake. Sure, Community Service was bloody boring when it wasn't terrifically humiliating, but getting sent onto real prison... THAT wasn't anything she wanted to endure. So she let the ghastly man lord his power over her and suffered his slimy, leering gazes just wanting to put her time in and get out as quickly as possible.
Then God himself decided to send her a great gift in the form of a ruggely handsome bloke with a strong chin, ~I've always liked that in a fellow~, and short cropped brown hair. The moment her eyes fell upon Daniel she felt that magnetic pull that made it impossible to look away. It wasn't JUST that he was GORGEOUS, which he was, there was just something... Powerful, commanding, electric and dreamy about him that drew her eyes like a moth to a flame. ~Whoa, girl! Can't just jump his bones right in front of Mr. T here...~, she chided herself as her heart skipped a beat and she felt her face flush.
Just as Beatrix was about to get all self conscious about being in the hideous orange jumpsuit when she heard the words coming out of Daniel's perfect lips... ~served really...~ she thought to herself KEENLY interested in what sort of trouble Mr. Thompson had gotten himself into. "Mr. Thompson.. Gov'nah..," she said pouring on the Cockney accent. "Shouldn't we be hospitable and offer your guest a cup ah?" she asked as she stood then gave Mr. T and Daniel a little curtsey full of fake gentility and sarcasm as she deliberately misconstrued the situation. She took a few steps towards the door and when she was close enough to Daniel she put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Take m'seat, love, be back in a minute." Before she passed him, she gave him a saucy and conspiratorial wink, begging him with her eyes to play along with her play and extend the drama of the moment. With the state Mr. Thompson was in things could get VERY interesting, VERY fast... With the right kind of push...
Mr. Thompson sputtered, still distracted by the envelope but not yet done with Beatrix. "Now wait 'ere Bea! I'm not done with you yet - " he glanced back down at the papers in his hand and wrestled with what to do about the entire situation. On one hand, he had been enjoying his fantasies about the orange-clad girl who had been his bane for the last few weeks. On the other... there was this 'serving' to deal with.
As the lovely wisp of a blond pushed passed Daniel Anderson he couldn't help but smile back at her. There was something crazy-fun about the girl that drew from him a longing that he hadn't felt in many years.
"I.. can't." He said to her rapidly departing back. She moved away with a confidence that didn't match the uniform she was wearing. Daniel swallowed and glanced back at Mr. Thompson.
"There's been a mistake!" The frumpy probation officer (or whatever he was) protested. "I can't take this." He tried to shove the manilla envelope back at Daniel. "Take it back."
Dan backed away, his hands held palm out as he shook his head. "What's done is done Sir. Now if you'll excuse me, I have other business to atten-"
"Are you one of them Yanks?" Thompson's tone grew angry. "You damn Americans - you're in on this, aren't you? God damn it all to hell!" He threw the envelope at the rapidly retreating server. "Tell Ilene that she and all of her damned American cocksuckers can suck my dickwad!"
Daniel tilted his head. -Suck his dickwad? What was that supposed to mean?- He smiled and backed away. This guy was nuts. The sooner Dan got out of there the better.
Since she had left her dress back at the hotel, Katya decided to do a little shopping. Her client had been quite generous so money was not a concern. Of course, her powers made shoplifting quite easy but Katya knew that security cameras could still pick her up. She didn't want to chance getting sent back to Russia so she played it straight. Katya decided that since she was nude under her fur coat it only made sense that she started with lingerie. One could never have too much lingerie in her line of work. Some of her clients gave her some as gifts but the poor dears always got her size wrong It's like none of them had ever been with a woman with an arse before. Then again, maybe that was one reason they came to Katya...
There was an Agent Provocateur boutique so Katya headed to there. Upon entering she was greeted by the sight of countless bras, panties, stockings, and corsets. As she took it all in, a tall blonde salesgirl in glasses approached Katya.
"Some in particular you had in mind today?"
"Why, yes," answered Katya. "Clearly I am in need of some underwear."
She smirked with mischief as she open her coat and showed the salesgirl her nude body. Katya just couldn't help herself. She loved her curves and took every chance to show it off. She figured a lingeries seller had seen her share of nude female flesh. Sure enough, the salesgirl simply raised a eyebrow.
"Hmmm... you look like an 80D bust with 103 cm hips. Is that right, miss?"
"Why, yes," answered Katya as she closed her coat. "You know your figures."
"All part of the job, miss," the salesgirl replied. "Let me show some thing I think you might like."
For the next several minutes, the salesgirl showed Katya quite a few sets. Many were to the Russian prostitute's liking and she knew her clients would enjoy them as well.
"Feel free to try anything on, miss," said the salegirl. "But do use the dressing rooms."
Stretching with a yawn as she wakes. She parts the curtains of her bedroom looking down! "Damn... overslept again... gladly its only saturday." She grumbles to herself before going to take a shower. After showering she grabs her favorite micro mini skirt and her lowcut neck bliuse. Throwing them on over her favorite bra an thong. Adjusting her skirt thong straps resting on her hips above her skirt waist line. Running her fingers through her hair sighing. "Its hard to look this good" she chuckles heading down from her loft apartment locking up behind her and heads to the corner coffee shop.