”John realised what she meant and he looked at her in surprise. “That’s not ... it isn’t the same thing,” he protested. “The girls aren’... living sculptures!”“I wasn’t talking about their physical appearance,” Faye said gently. “You’re able to take damaged, broken souls and help turn them into something quite wonderful.”He gaped at her, astonished by her words. Faye made no further comment and proceeded to wash him, her small slender hands gliding over his body as he stood there in quiet. Then he turned his attention to my pubic mound, pinching a tiny piece of flesh and sliding the needle through. One went across my pubic mound, the other went beneath it, by the time he reached the lips of my cunt I was wet and swollen, anticipating pain yet longing for release. He pinched the left side of my fleshy mound, held the tip of the needle against the skin, enough for me to feel the point prickle, I moaned and struggled, wanting release yet knowing the pain would come first. He slid. More

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