THIS IS FOR ADULTS ONLY. READ NO FURTHER UNLESS YOU ARE AN ADULT.
Power of Attorney
(F/F, domination, humiliation)
by Kristina (KK9) & Cowgirl
My name's Jennifer Corbitt, and it all started with...Kristina.
See, I have a weakness for intelligence, and I hired this cute new
secretary, Kristina. I had hired bright before, with varying degrees
of success. Kristina was the latest. I liked to encourage keen
secretaries and I thought this one might even eventually work her way up to
be a paralegal in the firm I work for.
***
Nice girl, sharp as a whip. Went through several dimwits before I could
find one who could stand the heat. At 27, I'm one of the *youngest* women
to make partner, and though I'm not a total bitch, I don't, or can't,
suffer fools gladly. You don't get ahead by showing *any* weakness in the
legal business, and if your secretary drops the ball, it's *your* ass, not
hers. Though any secretary is generally clueless as to the complexities of
what we lawyers deal with on a day-to-day basis.
It's like a partnership of sorts. A marriage, if you will. I'll
eventually rely on her for everything, if she's good! And Kristina (or
Krissy, as I sometimes call her when I want to remind her who's boss -
silly name though, I prefer Kristina) seems to understand this, and how
important to me her position is. Oh, sure, nobody likes being a stupid
little secretary at first, but she's resigned to it or she wouldn't have
*jumped* at the chance like she did. That's why she makes an excellent
subordinate. Okay, I'll admit to some naughty temptations. I'm guilty.
But it's, well, it's just a game really. Besides, she likes to play it.
Actually I'm lying. She fucking hates it, but that's half the fun:
deliberately testing my little Kristina by requesting she do all sorts of
menial things *outside* her job description.
Just to SEE if she will.
How far she'll willingly be pushed. I can't describe what it does to
me, seeing her face try and hide her anger, her indignation!
Oh, I know, it may sound tame. But seeing her pause in silent
embarrassment and anger about something we both know is TOTALLY out of line
for me to ask, *affects* me so, well, personally. Affects is an evasive
word. I just find her resistance so damned Provocative and hypnotic!
It really is the high point of my day! I've rarely met another woman
whose buttons were so much fun to push as this new reserved in
sensible shoes and modest skirts. The word 'rush' doesn't even begin to
describe how intoxicating and giddy I feel from the battle of wills just
beneath the surface lurking in her unwilling silence - and eventually her
shrug of agreement to whatever stupid chore I've requested.
I'm guilty. But it's, well, it's just a game really. Besides, she
likes to play it. Actually I'm lying.
She fucking hates it.
But who cares? I'm excited by moulding her into someone I can use. I
only get cruel when I feel that weak silly side of her that needs CRUSHING
out. And, despite her pouty looks, dancing defiant flicker in her green
eyes, her supple firm body arching as she swallows hard, lifts her
porcelain chin, boldly meeting my gaze, responding to this treatment,
thriving on it.
***
"Kristina, what are you doing?" I snapped from behind my desk.
"I'm typing the Stevens contracts...Didn't you want them...ASAP?" She
answered in a rush of words.
"Kristina, honey, those can wait. You've got to learn to *prioritize*
dear. Now, stop that sillyness and hurry on in here...pronto!" I tossed my
hair back defiantly. She quickly scurried into my office licking her pale
lips nervously.
"OK. Completely clean up my office. Start by reorganizing the filing
shelves; this includes...." I paused, eyebrow arched as if to look for her
missing notepad.
"Oh, sorry Jennifer." She panicked, fetching it over lighting fast and
was standing at my side seconds later. An electric shudder reverberated
through me at her alertness.
"I'm gonna glue that thing to you one of these days... It should be
ingrained by now... "
"Oh, Yes ma'am." She managed through stiff lips.
"Okay, where were we? Reorganize the shelves. Start by taking all the
files out one by one, dust each one, sponge-clean the shelves, check each
file and make sure that any loose pieces of paper are inserted..."
"Jennifer...that's a lot of...I mean, there must be...hundreds of..." I
savored her staring blankly, mouth open slackly.
"...thousands of pieces of paper, actually, but it's OK. You can stay
late." My eyebrow raised in amused contempt, her lips pursing, cheeks
scarlet as I rolled on. "
...So, make sure each one is hole-punched and inserted in date order.
And do the same with all the files piled up on my floor. You can borrow a
vacuum cleaner from the janitorial staff and vacuum up every last little
bit of dust and junk on the floor. Any questions?"
"I'm sorry Jennifer. I'm not being difficult, but...I'll never make
it...even if I work all night..."
"Well, you *could* stay after work for the next three nights, from, say,
6.00pm to 4.00am? That gives you from 4.00am till 8.00am sleep time. Four
hours is plenty! I want this office spotless, and I think it reflects on
you you're asking for extra time..."
Her brows drew together in an angry frown. I can't describe the sweet
anticipation that floods through me, drinking in her chin in a stubborn
line, poorly hiding her anger, her indignation.
Her self-hatred for even considering such a crazy request.
"Kristina, I want you to go walk over so you're facing those files.
Just do as I say, right now." My voice courteous, but patronizing.
"Huh?"
"You heard me...go stand face to face with those messy files. Don't
stop till you're three feet away from them.
She indignantly shifted from foot to foot as she made her way across my
carpet, to stand with her back to me, facing the wall of files.
"Good. Now, bend over, at the waist, until that cute little nose of
yours is a few inches from the third row of shelves..."
I couldn't see her face, but her body stiffened , and I could feel her
uncertainty, fear, and petulance.
But she did as I said, her full delicious little round bottom making a
'heart' before my wondering gaze.
"Jennifer? What's this about?"
"Does your boss's shelf look sparkling clean Kristina? Does it?"
"No...it's dusty, like you said" Her words came flat, burning with
humiliation over the obvious point I was making. "Can I stand up now? My
legs are..."
"Yes, I taunted. I can see that. NO dear, just stay there for
now...Kristina, I want you to, study that dirt. Look at it. Get to *know*
it. Dirt may seem repugnant to you, but it's something someone in your
position must acknowledge. We both know you think you're better than this,
don't we?"
"Dirt? No ma'am, I don't think..."
"Oh, don't deny it dear. You think you're above cleaning your boss's
office, getting on your knees, soiling yourself...don't you?"
"If you say so ma'am."
"Don't call me ma'am. I'm not your Kristina, or should I call
you Krissy? Are you just a little now? Is that why you keep calling
me ma'am? Looking for a momma you can cry too, are we princess?"
Kristina said nothing, but I could hear...
...little sobs escape her parted lips
...as I watched her cute ass in the air as she stood there bent
perfectly at the waist in silent shame.
"OK Krissy, stare at your new friend 'the dirt', and when you two make
friends, you come back out of my office."
"How long ma'am. I mean, Jennifer...should I...look at it?"
Her question surprised me, the word 'rush' not even beginning to
describe how intoxicating and giddy I felt from the battle of wills just
beneath the surface lurking in her unwilling silence - and eventually her
shrug of agreement to this stupid chore I had requested.
"How long do you *think* is appropiate Krissy, huh?"
"Till I learn my lesson?"
"...That's not exactly a specific amount of time now, is it dear? How
long do YOU believe it will take for you to 'learn your lesson'?"
"...Half an hour...?"
Wow! I didn't think she'd stay there that long - five minutes tops I
had thought! This was turning into the high point of my day! I've never
met another woman whose buttons were so much fun to push as this new,
reserved in conservative shoes and polite skirts.
"Are you asking? or suggesting? ...Take the initative Krissy."
"I'd like to suggest half an hour Jennifer." She managed through
clenched teeth. I could feel her legs were already screaming from the
angle, her lower back sweating as she smothered a groan.
"You're sure about that?" There was intensity in my lowered voice.
"Yes..." She quietly managed.
I walked down to get some lunch, images of her, the poor aroused,
suffering swirling through my mind, and it was all I could do to rush
through my sandwich and force myself to 'casually waltz' back in, catching
her standing there...
"It's been over a half hour Kristina." I chirped musically, as she
slowly stood back up, her legs quivering from probably falling asleep in
that lewd position.
"Thanks ma'am..."
I burst our laughing as she turned, and she got a perturbed frown on her
face, checking her nose in her compact and seeing a comical little 'dust
mark' kissing the end of her nose, something like a clown!
"Well, I guess you two really DID get to know each other, huh?" I teased
mercilessly, as her eyes danced angrily, hands clenched, teeth grinding
together at my mirth.
"...Of course, cleaning offices is really a privilege! Rubbing your
nose in my dirt doesn't guarantee your worth, does it? Why, when *I*
started at the firm I could have reorganized twice this size room in a
single day... So if you're not up to it..." I shrugged, my mouth twisted
in implied threat.
"Wait, I'm fine. I promise! And, sorry to complain, Jennifer. It's
fine. And I can work this evening, I can move things around..." she said,
wiping her nose, her face flushed.
"Move things around? Listen to yoooou. Honestly...Kristina, you're 21.
What have *you* got to 'move around', except that sweet little tushy of
yours?" I smirked.
Kristina managed a tremulous, embarrassed shrug, unable to face my
mocking smirk as I caressed her arm in the office. It seemed to make her
wince whenever she caught me appraising her figure, or lightly brushed up
against her shoulder or arm, as I was freely doing now, directing her gaze
to the floor, as I sat down to work.
Seeing her pause in silent embarrassment and anger about something we
both know is TOTALLY capricious.
Kristina's willingness to not only smear her own nose in my dirty
office, but to suggest her own punishment time kept floating through me in
sensual waves of heat and shame. Her conflicted expressions of and
anger at my thinking so little of her was a priceless gift that'll nourish
my restless body through the day. Just ignoring her as she's scrambling to
get all this work done right next to me sends little chills through me.
The odd part is, I know deep inside she's trying, struggling for the
courage, strength and self-confidence to get fed up and tell me to off
and quit. To say, "No, I WON'T... How dare you ask me!"
But we both know she won't.
***
One afternoon, I told her about an important meeting I had with a
potential new client the next morning. This middle-aged corporate
executive was well-known to have an eye for attractive, available girls,
and Kristina was attractive, but certainly didn't have that available look.
She dressed too...sensibly.
"Kristina", I explained, "if we can get this guy's legal business, or
even part of it, it will make a huge difference to the firm" (ie. my
remuneration package) "AND to your year-end bonus" (yeah sure - like 250
dollars instead of 200!).
"So, please would you dress more...temptingly tomorrow."
"Temptingly? What do you mean Jennifer?!"
"Kristina, you know what are like. They get a thrill seeing a bit
of leg, a glimpse of underwear, the outline of a bra. They love a bit of
eye contact, the possibility that something might happen. They're like
naughty children."
"But, I've heard Mr. Croker is with three kids. He won't be
intererested in that sort of thing!"
"Krissy, Let me be the judge of that."
"Jennifer, surely my job description does not
include...exposing...myself to clients. And you know I'm not that sort of
woman...I'm shy with anyway and Mr. Croker is enough to be my
father."
"It remains to be seen what sort of woman you are... Don't question me
Krissy. Your precious job description, if it were written down...which it
isn't, includes helping me with anything conducive to furthering the firm's
business. And if that necessitates wearing a particular outfit to help me,
you WILL wear it! Won't you...Krissy?
...Unless of course you'd rather switch to a janitor's job and wear a
nylon housecoat over second hand clothes. There's a vacancy, I understand.
We are trying to make money here, Krissy, not run a convent.
...So, do you have any sexier clothes than your rather...sensible usual
outfits?"
Kristina looked at me with an expression deep inside her eyes, as if she
were thinking, "But you can't turn me into a sex object for your
clients...But maybe it is for the good of the firm... But...it can't be
expected, it can't be...normal... "
...But she replied,
"I,...I really don't have any... sexy ...clothes Jennifer. I always
dress pretty conservatively, I guess."
"Look, Krissy, go out and buy one of those extra-short, swirly
mini-skirts which the kids are wearing at the moment. And...do you have
any transparent panties?"
"Jennifer! What are you saying? NO I haven't!"
"Go out and buy some then!" They don't have to be COMPLETELY
see-through. Like...get those ones with a flowery, gauzy, semi-transparent
front. You know what I mean."
"Jennifer...please...don't make me...flash my at Mr.
Croker...for you." Her lips quivered. She was on the verge of tears. My
little secretary was nearly breaking down...
"CHILL OUT Krissy. I'm not asking you to do ANY such thing. Just wear
the mini-skirt, the sexy panties, a pretty bra, a white blouse and cute
shoes. Don't wear pantyhose. That's all!
Millions of women dress like that every day. I shouldn't because I'm an
attorney and a partner. You can because you're a secretary.
AND, just make sure you sit round at the side of the table and cross
your legs every now and then. Maybe bend over a bit low when you pour the
coffee... The outfit will do the rest by itself!
I'm sure Mr. Croker will be interested in wanting to see your legs
again (and MAYBE your again - if he catches a sight of them!) - AND
thus in doing more business with Vernon & Oakley.
Krissy, it is for the good of the firm. Please understand."
"But...Jennifer...I want to improve myself and work up to becoming a
paralegal here, maybe even take the bar exam. No one will take me
seriously if I don't dress properly."
"No one will take you seriously if you don't do what you are told
either, Kristina."
Kristina wanted to tell me to go and jump in the lake. But part of her
knew I was right. And all of her knew I was her respected boss.
Her face was slightly flushed and I'm sure her was throbbing at
the thought of her boss practically ordering her to expose her underwear to
a client. I could sense it. And I knew my was wet as I watched her
confused face as she prepared to submit to my will.
"Good. That's settled then." I declared.
"Thanks so much sweetie. Knock on wood we get the business."
***
That's why I hired her. I'm very good at reading people, my job depends
on it. What excites me is the blind desperate fear and one-in-a-million
shot that she'll get some guts and actually tell me to off. And quit.
Yet what pushes me into a dark little cloud of desire is how she never
disappoints me, and always sells herself short and jumps to. It would be
almost sad if it weren't so damned funny, what people do to themselves.
Kristina's been doing this long before I came along, surrendering to people
and tasks she hates. If not me, she'd find someone else, sick little bimbo
she is.
As time goes by I had to up the stakes so I wouldn't get bored.
I was going on vacation the next week, needed to buy some new underwear
and things and didn't have time to get away from the office. Kristina
could obviously help me.
"Krissy," I began, "would you be a darling and go down to the shopping
mall and pick up some things for me. I need five new pairs of panties,
nice matching bras, and some pads and things. Put in on your card and I'll
pay you when you get back" (if I remember).
Silence. A quiet, silently outraged stare. She was thinking, "I'm not
your `personal shopper' - especially not for lingerie and sanitary
products."
"...But...but...Jennifer, I don't even know what type you like or what
size you are!"
"I've thought of that, stupid!" I handed her a brown paper shopping bag.
"I've put in there some current examples of my favourite panties, and one
bra for size - and empty packages of the sanitary stuff I like. Just make
sure you match up the bras nicely! Show the to the sales at
Hanley's when you get to the store, and she'll do the rest. Easy!"
...What I didn't tell her was that the were straight from my
laundry basket...unwashed, and well-worn. I envisioned the scene at
Hanley's when my little Krissy opened the bag and, in disbelief, passed to
the assistant my dirty laundry, saying, "My boss sent me to ask you for
some more like these. I'm sorry they're dirty. She must not have had any
clean ones to give me."
I wondered, would Kristina sniff my in the street on the way
back - or in the privacy of the ladies' room?
***
Slowly...over several months, the realization dawned on me that I liked
bossing Kristina around because...I lusted after her...with all my being.
And deep inside, I WANTED her to stand up to me. To tell me to shut up.
To push me back over my big, antique wooden desk, pull aside my gusset and push her fingers ROUGHLY into my pussy. To kiss me full on my
mouth. To sit in my comfortable leather chair and advise clients while I
did her filing for her and ran her errands. To pay me a pittance while she
took home thousands of dollars every month. To buy me a little box of soap
every Christmas. To tell me what to wear. To advise me about my private
life. I wanted her to be MY boss.
The same thing must have been occurring to Kristina at the same time.
Over the months she became more confident. She had picked up a lot of
legal knowledge from me and from the others. She began giving basic legal
advice. She started doing a bar course in the evenings.
The senior partner liked her. Everyone liked her. She dressed better
and better. She began wearing colourful and elegant suits, with well-cut
short, but not too short, skirts.
***
A few months later she and I were in a structuring meeting with Mr.
Croker and his team. His company was now a major client. Mike Moreton,
our senior partner, had turned up at the meeting to see how things were
going.
After that very first meeting, Mr. Croker had told me how impressed he
had been that an up-and-coming paralegal could be so attractive and
feminine too.
"But she's not a paralegal." I had said. "She's just my secretary."
"Well Jennifer, she knows a helluva lot of law for a secretary. Haven't
you noticed?"
But I digress...
In this structuring meeting, I was saying,
"I'm sorry. There's just no way you can structure this property
purchase to achieve a tax rebate."
...When Kristina interrupted,
"Jennifer,...Canford..." She used Mr. Croker's FIRST name! "I think
you will find that we can bring the purchase payment within Schedule C(3)
of the '86 Real Estate Exchange Act. That should save Croker Inc. 10
million dollars."
My whole body froze as I realized she was right. I had completely
overlooked the application of the '86 Act. My clamped shut...cold
and dry...as Kristina solved my client's problem and saved him 10 million
dollars - all in an open meeting in front of his whole team, AND our senior
partner!
"...Oh ...yes...of course Kristina. Thanks for mentioning it. I was
going to come on to that possibility later."
Everyone in the room, my clients, my senior partner, turned and looked
at me, thinking,
"Oh no you weren't. Your cute paralegal knows more law than you do."
***
Time passed. Jennifer picked up everything so fast. She passed her bar
exam first time.
She sent me e-mails: "Jennifer, you are putting on weight. I suggest
you diet." "I will go to the Stinson meeting tomorrow. There's no need for
you to be there." "You're not as quick as you were. Is everything OK?"
"I'll be late tomorrow morning. Could you do your filing yourself please."
"Jennifer, I'm not going to be out of the Consolidated Steel meeting until
5 o'clock. Please would you collect my dry cleaning."
The senior partner invited her to a big dinner at his house and didn't
invite me.
I began to lose confidence and fell apart professionally. I couldn't
concentrate on my work anymore.
One day, for example, Kristina stepped in to help me - "Look Jennifer,
you're not up to this today. I'll dictate it onto tape and you type it up
for me to check tomorrow morning. OK?"
"...Uh...yuh...of course Kristina. I'll stay late tonight."
***
Months later, one afternoon, I left work early for a dentist's
appointment. When I came in the next morning at 9.30, Kristina was
sitting...in MY chair...at MY desk. Her hot little ass, inside her
executive skirt and no-doubt by now imported panties, was snuggling into
the sensuous leather of MY partner-size chair. She was brimming with
confidence.
As I entered the room, she beckoned me (ME!) sit down in her little grey
secretary's chair without arms. She strode around my large, antique, desk
and stretched up a leg to perch herself upon the front left-hand corner,
swinging her other leg around to make a comfortable seat for herself. In
doing this, she unavoidably and...aggressively...exposed to me (and left
exposed) her gleaming white, stretched crotch - as if to say, "
Jennifer; I, and my vagina, are in charge here from now on".
Whereas in the first Croker meeting, she had reluctantly aroused Mr.
Croker's interest by shyly allowing him glimpses of her legs and maybe her
panties (I couldn't tell), now she was a woman taking the initiative, using
her underwear as an offensive weapon - instead of as a thin layer of
defence.
Framed by her firm, light-skinned thighs and tailored plaid skirt, her
vulva bulged against the thin white material which lovingly outlined her
sex, her slit - beckoning me like an eye; capturing my attention,
hypnotizing me.
In that moment, I knew that she had the better of me and, what's more,
that I was destined to kneel one day between those commanding legs and
press my face against her sex...in submission and surrender.
My legs almost gave way with the tension of the moment, and I weakly
collapsed on to Kristina's little grey secretary's chair.
"Jennifer, after you left the office yesterday afternoon, Jerry Smith of
First State Bank called with an urgent section 24 problem. I've solved it,
explained everything to him on the phone and told him I'll confirm it all
by letter. I've just finished dictating it onto this tape. Please type it
up for me ASAP. I've got to go to a meeting in Mike's" (senior partner's)
"office."
With that, she closed her legs, jumped off the desk and surged off to
see Mike, with a little wiggle of her ass - a victory wiggle.
I meekly inserted the tape into the player, put on her headphones and
pressed "play", my typing fingers at the ready. The tape began,
" Hello Jennifer. If your is coldly throbbing right now, it means
you will be doing all my typing in future, doesn't it girl?"
"Yes Kristina." I pathetically whispered to myself. I was already well
aware that my were wet and
that...my...pussy...was...coldly...throbbing.
***
I now always sat on the little grey secretary's chair without arms. I
brought Kristina's mail to her and made her coffee.
I was doing more and more typing. More and more chores.
I heard colleagues talking behind my back about who was working for whom
- Kristina for me or me for Kristina? I walked into the ladies's room one
day, hearing much giggling. When I appeared the went completely
quiet.
By this time, I realized that I couldn't cope with anything more than
basic secretarial tasks. I found it difficult to concentrate, my voice had
become nervous and jittery,...but Kristina was keeping my clients happy.
Mike had insisted that we give her a huge raise and Kristina had convinced
me that if I didn't want it to get out that I wasn't doing any productive
work anymore, I should pay her 80 per cent of my take-home salary every
month. So I set up a huge standing order at the bank in her favour, and
set about readjusting my lifestyle to my secretary-level income!
I hated, but inside me, loved, writing out the checks to her every
month. "Pay to Kristina Katyn the sum of twenty thousand dollars only."
ONLY! My life had become a drudgery, paying over my money to her and
trying to live on her salary.
She even told me I should dress, "more secretary and less partner".
She took me shopping and picked out some transparent white nylon blouses
for me. So everyone could EASILY SEE MY BRA through the cheap material.
She preferred me to wear thin bras. When the air-conditioning was cold, my
nipples stuck right out through my bra and blouse. Kristina kept the
air-conditioning cold.
My imported lingerie was too expensive for me to maintain now, she told
me. She preferred me to buy cheap cotton or nylon full briefs.
Occasionally she checked up on me.
"What have you got on today Jennifer?"
"You mean...?"
"Yes Jenny. What underwear is my faithful little secretary wearing
today?"
"I'm wearing big like you wanted. White, plain..."
"Let's see."
"What do you mean, "Let's see?""
"Don't be slow, Jennifer. I mean lift up your skirt and show me your
underwear. I want to check for myself that you are following my
guidelines."
"Kristina, I may be going through a difficult emotional stage at the
moment, butI am still a partner in this firm. PLEASE don't make me DO
these things!"
"Jenny, you know as well as I do that you're only hanging onto your job
with my help. If I were you I would lift up your skirt when I ask."
My eyes watered as the depths to which I had sunken became clear. I
needed to hang on for longer at Vernon & Oakley while I tried to get myself
back together. I needed time to recover.
Kristina sat back in MY leather chair and waited. I raised my skirt
with both hands, showing my ex-secretary my big, white, cheap briefs.
"Good." She pronounced. "Very practical underpants. Just like the
janitorial staff wear, I would imagine."
My face flushed with anger and despair as I Jennifer Corbitt, law firm
partner, stood in my office, showing my to my secretary for her
approval. My tightened with excitement and I could feel that my
pussy lips were moistening.
"Show me undermeath too." Said Kristina.
"What! Kristina! No...please no."
"Yes. Please yes. Jennifer...Show me."
I inserted my thumbs into the waistband of my full white briefs and
slowly, nervously pulled them down until they rested at mid-thigh. My
skirt had dropped down, so I raised it again, revealing to my secretary the
full "v" of my intimate hair, dark against my white thighs.
I looked down and, to my eternal shame, saw a single sticky strand of
wetness stretching uo from my crotch to my swollen pussy.
Kristina saw it too.
I couldn't hide it anymore. Now Kristina knew how my body felt about
her. My mind had to follow.
"Oh, I'm sorry Kristina!" I spluttered, brushing away the give-away
spider's web-like strand.
"Your secretions speak louder than your words, Jennifer." joked
Kristina.
My face turned deep with shame.
"Cover yourself up now Jennifer. In future, though, I want your to be clean-shaven, like your armpits and your legs. I don't want a hairy
secretary."
What was she saying? How far could she dictate my life to me? No way
would I shave my for HER!
...But I knew I would,...that very evening.
***
As I knew it would, the day came.
I was tearful, but accepting, as the senior partner explained to me
that, frankly he couldn't understand how my performance had dropped off so
totally; but that the firm was so lucky to have a ready-made replacement in
Kristina!
Now that Kristina was a partner, he was happy for me to take over
permanently as Kristina's secretary, as long as I increased my typing speed
within 30 days to the level she required.
I would be paid her salary, less a bit while I got up to speed.
"Oh, and try to smile a bit more would you Jennifer. We like people to
be upbeat here. It's better for morale."
END
Send any correspondence to:
katyn99@hotmail.com
or
cowgirl_stupid@yahoo.com
(c) Nov. 2002 KK9 and Cowgirl
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