The writer, whoever he (or she?) was, told me about a torture club in my citywhere victims could discuss their fantasies and then take part in session...held in the club's dungeon. I replied by email that I was interested, and gota reply the next day. I was told to come to an address about half a mile frommy apartment, at 8 pm the next day. That day I was in a feverish excitement. I showered and put on a pair ofjeans and a T-shirt that showed off my figure. I kept looking at my watch,but time. So sensitive, he muttered. Does this make you horny? he asked, circling a finger around one hard nub. The simple gesture nearly caused her knees to go weak. Yes, Professor, she gasped, her eyes hooded. Can you help me? Possibly, Professor Slughorn shrugged noncommittally. But why would I want to? Hermiones eyes snapped in surprise. Professor Slughorns smile spread, causing the corners of his large mustache to rise making him look oddly like a basset hound. A slut ripe for the taking, he hissed,. More

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