Imagine we were bunking together in a prison cell. I'd use you for my complete pleasure -- shackling you with handcuffs and forcing you to massage my feet with your mouth until your tongue lost all sensation.
Sir, Butler Frinton do complain about tripping over Lady B__'s leopard-skin rug in the dining room, and request that it be flattened in some way. I know not how, but maids Beatrix and Prudence tell me they are skilled in the ways of rug grubbling. These
