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preferred.  She kept regular appointments for a full body wax, a manicure, and a pedicure.  It was essential to keep up a professional image, and she’d found that pubic hair and PVC did not mix.
     
    After several hours, she was as buffed and polished as she was going to get.  She was looking forward to cooking her evening meal, relaxing with a book and a glass of wine, and not doing much of anything for the rest of the night, when her phone rang.  She’d only just settled into the driver’s seat of her car and was still parked outside the beauty salon.  She fished the handset out of her bag.  Jackie.  Shit.  She hoped it wasn’t trouble at the club.
     
    Andy slid her thumb across the screen to accept the call.
     
    “Hey.  What’s up?”
     
    “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong.  Selene called.  She’s wondering if she can make an appointment for seven p. m.?”
     
    Selene was the highflying CEO who enjoyed being whipped.  Selene wasn’t her real name.  Everyone who dealt with the dungeon at the club used aliases for the clients between themselves, usually based on literary or film characters.  It was a way of preserving a little more anonymity for their visitors.  A seven p m. appointment meant Selene wanted to come by on her way home from work.  It was Friday.  There was a good chance that she would ask for a heavier session than normal if she was planning on staying home for the weekend. 
     
    Andy was pleasantly tired.  She could feel that her muscles had been worked at the gym, and she was still feeling some of the workout that they’d gotten the past two nights with Chiz, but those were generally a different muscle group.  Still, Selene didn’t make emergency appointments.  It was likely she was under some big stress at the office.  Her visits to the Pumpkin Patch were her way of dealing with the responsibilities of being in charge, and the frustrations of being the sole woman on a board full of obnoxious men.  Andy knew how important the release of her sessions was to Selene, and it wasn’t often that she did this.  Like most of her clients, Selene booked well in advance.
     
    “Okay.  Call her back.  Tell her I’ll be there.”
     
    “If you’re sure, boss.”
     
    “Yeah.  There better be coffee, though.”
     
    “There will be.  I’ll make sure of it.  See you soon.”  Jackie ended the call.
     
    Andy returned home with enough time to throw her gym clothes in the washer and to make a quick and simple dinner.  She didn’t want to eat anything heavy if she was going to be exerting herself.
     
    When she arrived at the club, Jackie had the promised coffee ready, and she carried the cup for her as Andy carried the bags of the supplies she’d brought, paper towels, wipes and the like, upstairs.  Three of the other dominants were working, so Andy double checked which rooms would be free and what time everyone was due to finish their sessions. 
     
    Andy drank the bitter brew as she pulled on a pair of silky Lycra boy shorts and fastened a corset in place.  The corset was already laced to fit Andy’s frame, so it required a degree of tugging and pulling to get the hooks and eyes that ran down the front properly fastened. It had a sweetheart décolletage and flared over the curve of her hips, and was boned to cinch her waist in by inches.  It was sleek, black patent pleather and matched the thigh-high boots that Andy pulled on.  The boots were always a hit with clients, unless she was supposed to be dressing as a nurse or a teacher, and they were comfortable despite the inches-high heel. 
     
    Andy favored a corset and shorts outfit over the tight skirts and dresses that she sometimes wore, or over the suits and full-skirted Fifties-style dresses that she wore for role-play in the school room.  The shorts were much less restrictive and gave her a greater range of movement.  The corsets ensured that she kept her posture, which in turn made sure she used