“So make one...”
Our colloquy is interrupted as Sunny cries out, her otherwise motionless form thrashing about.
The movement of her legs seems to cause intense spasms which in term cause more movement. Winnie puts aside his wine and arises from his chair. Terming the reaction a cascade seems most apropos.
“So sorry, Mrs. Anderson. But its appears Sunny has burned through the required endorphins and lost control of herself.”
Whereas releasing the many grommets would seem to be the likely solution, this Winnie instead steps to her side and begins massaging, cooing soft words to encourage better control.
“Just relax,” his soft paternal voice murmuring as one knowing hand lifts the right ankle and the other kneads her calf.
“I’m afraid part of the training is to force her to endure the
