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Such a proposal. "Just one week, Master." she pleaded. "Excuse me - Master? And...and...where did you get that frilly little french maid outfit?" Stacey shrugged. "It seemed appropriate." was her non-answer. "I promise, you won't regret it! One week!" Still fearing some voyeristic version of candid camera I felt a great deal of suspicion - yet what could I do but nod in mute agreement? "Oh! But where are my manners; you must be hungry!" she beckoned towards the steaming hot steak-dinner on the table, complete with place-settings and red wine. I hesitated uneasily for several interminable ...
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