He glared. He glared hard, and suddenly the man with theSpanish voice flailed his arms."She's a no trained chicata bitch." He bellowed and left, andth...ough the mirrors Joan saw him melt into the boiling crowd onthe dance floor.The barkeep smiled and gave Joan another martini. Joan litanother cigarette and sipped on the filter, feeling giddy.Thoughts roiled through him. I'm a slut, but not anyone's slut.Not everyone's. Not always.The club was hopping now, people dancing, the jazz band. They found the wigs to be highly realistic, and they chose ones that looked much like their natural hair.Karen told Betty she could choose any hair she liked as well. Betty shook her head no. She still had the dildo in her mouth. She mumbled, “You are right, Mistress. My hair was fake, like my excuses. I think I should learn to appreciate being bald.”Karen seemed pleased with her sister’s response. She chose three wigs for Betty anyway, citing the fact that the customers may prefer a whore with. More

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