Adventures of a K.I.S.S. Agent

Started this story many years ago and just re-discovered it in an archive. 

Asking if you the readers have any idea for Wendy’s perils, either erotic,

exotic or otherwise, that you’d like to see.  I’ve used he very delectable

Leslie Parrish as the basis for Wendy.  Don’t be afraid to make suggestions. 

Thanks, look forward to hearing from you.  Cheers,  Steve

The hot humid air of Yangon Airport hit her half way down the steps, she smiled, it’s just like home she

told herself.  

‘Feels just like Bessemer Alabama,’ Wendy thought as she reached the ground, then started walking

across the tarmac toward the arrivals gate.  She elegantly removed her sunglasses upon entering the

building a smiling man only too happy to open the door for her, she gave him a playful smile in

acknowledgement.

She patiently waited in the queue for her turn with customs, most of her fellow passengers already

showing visible signs of the heat, some resorting to fanning themselves with their passports while

shifting impatiently in the line.  

‘Welcome to Rangoon,’ a man said while his hand received her passport.  ‘Who are you here to see?’

‘I’m working for The Rand Corporation,’ Wendy answered in her soft southern voice which caused the

man to look up and into her deep blue eyes. ‘Here are my additional papers,’ she added with a smile.

‘Of course, all seems to be in order, 'he said, giving her papers only a very cursory look before stamping

them.

‘Thank you so much,’ she added, then turned and walked toward the barrier separating the passengers

from the assembled crowd, a mixture of cabbies hustling and jostling amongst themselves for fares to

people waving to attract the attention of arrivals to those more prepared who held up makeshift signs

with names on them.  She spotted her name and moved to it.

‘Welcome to Rangoon Miss Hammond, it isn’t hell, but you can see it from here,’ said a middle aged

man wearing a loose and already perspiration stained white shirt and a pair of baggy brown cotton pants

that looked like they hadn’t seen a laundry in weeks.  

‘At least he removed his Yankee’s cap upon greeting me,’ said thought.  ‘But I declare a Yankees cap!’

Wendy mused. 

‘Your luggage will be this way, hopefully nothing is missing, around this place, if it isn’t nailed down

or locked up your chances of seeing it again are slim.

The welcoming committee had seen better days, clearly the weather and too much food, lack of exercise

had zapped whatever youth had remained right out of him.  A rounded mid-section, sagging and in

constant need of mopping up face, did not make the best of impressions.  He moved slowly as if the

air itself conspired against his motion.  

‘My word you are a ray of sunshine,’ Wendy said as they walked along.

‘It ain’t the sunshine you got to worry about here, it’s the heat and the humidity.  Sorry, by the way,

Larry Baldon, Rangoon Divisional Head, Policy Analysis, effectively your boss, but pay no attention to

that, out here things have a looser structure than at home.  I’m still trying to figure out who I cheesed

off back in the world to be sent out here.  How about you, I heard some ridiculous nonsense that you

actually volunteered for this, I put that down in interference on the phone line when I heard it.’  

‘You heard correctly Mr. Baldon, I did indeed volunteer for this assignment,’ Wendy answered.

He gave her a curious look.  ‘Well you sound sane enough and you do come highly recommended. 

What are you girl, 24?’

‘Just turned 22 sir.’

He looked her up and down and smiled.  You’re going to be very popular, not only with ex-colonials,

visiting military and the locals,’ he chuckled and said nothing more, he didn’t need to.

‘Those two bags there are mine Mr. Baldon, if you wouldn’t mind.’ He picked them up, with great effort,

although he tried not to make it look so and then motioned toward the door.  

‘This is my favourite part, the car’s air conditioned, he said, swinging a suitcase forward to indicate the

Mercedes.  Well that and the office, your place has ceiling fans, for all the good they do,’ he said slamming

the trunk lid down then lumbering around to open the door for her.

‘Thank you sir,’ she said, sliding gracefully into the passenger seat.

‘When you drive here remember, there are no or very few rules, except be aggressive,’ he said as the

car roared away from the curb and dodged across several lanes of traffic.

‘I will keep that in mind sir,’ Wendy said calmly.

‘I thought we’d start at the office, 176 Portman Road, show you around, meet the others and then I can

take you to the hotel we use, it’s just around the corner from the office and right next to the Government

Centre, everything centrally located, at least that’s one blessing,’ Larry Baldon said and he dodged an

Auto Rickshaw, then several scooters, a motorcycle and finally a Cycle Rickshaw all within 5 seconds

of each other.  ‘Missed my calling I think, should have been a race car driver,’ he added as the car pulled

into a lane and up to a security gate.   Larry flashed his ID badge and the heavy steel gate rolled back and

the car advanced to the back of the building. ‘Reminder of the fact that this is not a welcoming place,’

Larry said, referencing the gate.  We’ll fix you up with your pass and all the other necessary paperwork

once introductions are done.’

The building looked like it was an old warehouse, one story, in an English Indian design.  The very

few windows she spotted on the front and on the drive to the back were covered in steel close cropped

lattice to keep people and objects out, she assumed by objects, grenades. 

There was only one way into the building, a steel door with a 5 digit metal button keypad.  Larry shielded

himself from Wendy and entered a code, they stepped out of the sun and into an air conditioned supply

room, Larry spread his arms and took a deep breath.  On the opposite wall at the far end to the left was

another door, they moved toward it where Larry repeated the process.

‘Again a reminder of local issues, doors offset from another so an explosion has to travel down to be

effective, by that time it will dissipate.  Also doors are made to be blast resistant and the walls are double

thick concrete with a steel plate in the middle, thank you Uncle Sam.’

He repeated the procedure of a passcode to this door and they entered into a long hallway with file boxes

piled outside entrances into cubicles where people sat slumped over work.  The whole place was a rather

depressing shade of light gray, walls, carpets, cubicle dividers, even the ceiling was off white, stains marked

in various areas.

‘What we lack in neatness we make up for in answers, watch your step,’ Larry said as he made his way

up the aisle informing everyone in a loud voice to come to the lunchroom for an announcement.  About

half way up they stopped and Larry motioned for Wendy to stay while he meandered down several

branched off aisles telling everyone to gather.  Wendy watched him punch in a code at a door at the far

end and enter.  He exited a few minutes later with several people.  He came past her and picked up the

lead again as they went in the opposite direction, through a swinging door and into a room, maybe 15x20

that acted as the cafeteria.

‘One soda machine, a fridge and sink, a garbage can and a hot plate, tables and chairs of various sizes

and colours.  Well at least the decor matches the office,’ she thought to herself as Larry escorted her

toward the sink to face the assembled masses.

‘Everyone, our new saviour, Miss Wendy Lawson,’ Larry said in a jovial voice Wendy didn’t think he

had processed.  ‘Seriously, she comes highly recommended from DC so give her lots of work,’ he said

and laughed and the others followed suit.  ‘Make her feel welcome.’

Everyone came up and introduced themselves, it was a small group, 15 people in all, you didn’t need more

than that if you had the right kind of people and these were that.  Wendy had just finished shaking hands

with what she thought was the final member when Larry spoke.

‘This finally is the brains of the entire outfit, our Office Manager and everyone’s right hand, Eunice Gray. 

I’ll leave you to her, she’ll get all the paperwork done and show you to your desk and about the place, such

that it is and I’ll have your luggage sent to your hotel room,’ Larry Baldon said and departed.

‘I’m sure you got the welcome to hell greeting like everyone else got, myself included.  Don’t take that

seriously, this is an exhilarating place if you know where to look,’ Eunice said as she hooked her arm into

Wendy’s and began the tour.

Wendy got all her employee credentials, her passcode, was shown how to enter using the front door, again

a very heavy and she assumed, blast resistant one, that had the same concept as the back door, an offset

door with a second code entry system. Eunice promised to show her where to shop for everyday things

she would require warning her to be prepared to haggle over price, it was expected.  Wendy noticed that

the tour took longer than it should have, Eunice seemingly in no hurry to let her go. Several times during

the tour Eunice had tripped on the corner of file boxes and stumbled into Wendy catching her for support,

always with the same excuse that she thought she had all the locations memorized.

The rest of the morning was spent getting access to the building, paperwork for pay and organising her desk,

Wendy even managed to get work done, a feat that impressed certain people.  She left with other staff,

mostly to ensure she could get out of the building and walked back to her hotel, just a block and a half

around the corner.  

The hotel, The Presidential, had seen better days and those days were a long time in the past.  The influx

of American money, had for certain, brought it up in the world, but that rise had only gone so far.  It

reminded Wendy of inner city hotels that time and neighbourhood had passed by, but that was still grimly

hanging on to past glory.  The carpet was just a little frayed in places and needed to be cleaned more than

it was currently, ceiling fans whirred and wobbled, dispersing more dust than air.  A mixture of civilian and

military types sat around café type chairs and other mismatched chairs they could pull about drinking and

talking.  A few stopped talking when they caught sight of her, then a few more and then more was a wave

of silence spread across the lobby floor.  It was rare to see a western woman in Rangoon, other than a

nurse and they were always in the same drab green uniform that created a kind of generic sameness for

everyone.  Rarely did they see a smartly dressed woman in a skirt and heels.  Wendy reflected on the

deafening silence, but let on no acknowledgement of such as she checked in and without looking made her

way to the old iron gated elevator that still required a person to operate.  Her room was on the third, she

could just make out the chatter picking up again as the elevator started, she was in no doubt about the topic

of conversation. 

 

Her room was at the end of the corridor, she counted seven other rooms, the carpet even wore more on this

floor than below.  She didn’t mind the close humid air it reminded her of home, however she did not find

the cool air that greeted her as she opened the door to her new home.  Several ceiling fans, new ones she

could see, worked overhead, silently and efficiently they moved the air about with the help of portable

fans placed about the room.  This was her main living space.  Wendy was surprised at how generous the

room size, about 20x20, room enough for a formal setting of seating, a desk for work and incidental pieces

of furniture, it looked old but remarkably clean. 

To the right at the far end of the room a hallway led to a small galley kitchen, functional enough to eat in

and sit two at a small table, it had a fridge and a gas four burner cooking top.  Directly opposite the hall

and across the main room another hall led to the bathroom, classic old English 20’s colonial style, with a

clawfoot tub, rigged with a shower extension to make it more modern and functional.  Wendy tried the taps

and supposed she could get wet if she ran around in it, the pressure was not the best, the sink and toilet had

mercifully been cleaned and worked fine.  A turn and two steps she found her in the bedroom.  A four poster

carved wooden bed with mosquito netting dominated the room, again a left over from colonial times, a

matching twelve drawer dresser at the foot of the bed competed for space.  There was a bedside table and a

wardrobe for hanging things up.  It all looked clean and tidy, but just to be sure Wendy checked the mattress,

she smiled it was new.  Her luggage, as promised, was on the bed waiting to be unpacked.  

She unpacked, precisely placing things so that everything was just so, the way she liked it.  She slid the

empty suitcases under the bed and stepped over to the wardrobe.

‘Now for the real unpacking,’ she thought as she bent her left leg back, slid back the point of her heel and

removed a key.  She fitted it into the wardrobe lock and opened the double doors.  Inside were three more

suitcases just as had been arranged.

‘After all expecting a girl to survive on just two suitcases of clothes is not manageable, especially when that

girl is a K.I.S.S. [ (K)ombined (I)nternational (S)ecurity (S)ection ] agent.

CAPTIONS

 

CAPTIONS

 

Learning Curve

‘Come on in ladies, don't be shy, that doesn’t work in this line of work,’ she laughed.

Ten young women gingerly filed through the doors and formed up across a line on the floor as they’d been instructed to do earlier.  

The woman who had called to them swung around on the chair, slipped her feet into a pair of classic pumps, rose and walked toward them.  As she did two doors, one on each side of the room opened, from one side came a woman with a tailor's measuring tape while another 

pushed a multitiered shelf of shoes.  From the opposite side a woman pushed a rack of shirts to numerous to count but all labelled with various numbers.  The woman stood by as the one who had greeted the girls looked along the line of them, giving each the once over.  

‘My name is Tracey Cummings and yes I am an agent, not just an instructor, Force does not believe in that, all your teachers are agents, either active or retired, I happen to still be active.  Now I can see some of you are visibly uncomfortable, the way you came in and your demeanour now, both in body language and facial expression, tells me so.  What I want to know is why?  Be honest, it's the only way to overcome it.  What you're experiencing I can guarantee the person next to you is as well.  So, who wants to be first?’ she smiled standing dead centre of the group and looking.

‘I feel vulnerable,’ said one.

‘Almost naked, but in an uncomfortable way,’ another added.

‘On display,’ yet another said.  

Tracey saw the nods from the others, a reassuring smile on her face.  ‘Then you're going to hate this,’ she said, her eyes darting to the women on the sidelines, one of whom sprung into action, her tape measure a flurry of activity as she called out numbers for the first girl. By the rack with the shirts one lady searched, handed one to the other, she took it to the first trainee motioning her to undo her buttons, hand her the shirt and take the new one.  The process repeated itself down the line until all were changed.  The two costumiers, their job done, left via the door they had entered.  

‘Much better, not so loose, but not so tight, the perfect squeeze factor.  Now for the shoes, a pair of each to start I think, we can do other colours later, let's get the style and height first,’ Tracey said to the remaining two ladies who went to work.   They made quick work of their task then silently disappeared like the other two leaving Tracey and the ten recruits alone.

‘Now I imagine if you felt those anxieties before you’re really feeling them now,’ she smiled.  ‘Let me explain what just happened and why, but first, a little history.  These two garments have been in our arsenal since the early 1950’s, just as your guns, knives, various drugs and poisons have, but with one exception.  Guns can miss or only wound, same goes for knives, drugs and poisons may be resisted or not effective, but what we’re all wearing ladies, has never ever not been 100% effective in all those years.  Negligee, bikini, cocktail dress can’t hold a candle to this simple ensemble, men simply cannot resist it.  Some of the reasons are obvious, legs, especially long ones, which you all have, they display perfectly, every step you take causes them to dance before him, doesn’t matter if your a Curve agent, old, young, The heels only add to the mesmerization as they tighten things up a bit, your bum, your calves and thighs, they also give you added height and lengthen out your legs making them even more dazzling.’

She walked up and down the row of trainee’s looking at them.

‘Now we come to the issue of heels, yes or no or maybe both.  That’s answered with one simple test, step out of your heels ladies,’ Tracey asked as she stepped back to look at the results.  ‘Rare indeed, usually there are one or two and forgive me for this my dear,’ she said addressing the only Curve trainee.  ‘Usually Curve agents that should wear the heels all the time as it makes their legs look better, but you my dear,’ she said stopping in front of the Curve agent trainee, you can do either, as can the rest of you.  You’ve all got the legs for it.’

‘You’re right about feeling more vulnerable, why the change?’ one agent asked.

‘Those shirts you all came in with didn’t show enough of you, far too loose and baggy.  Their replacements all fit precisely, right to the bottom of your bum and just enough cover to hide your paradise. The upward arch on the sides allows the look from the top of your leg into the hips, most alluring if used right.  This is a weapon ladies, your best one, you need to look your best in it and these shirts do it.  Once your active agents, you can request a variety of colours, but I prefer the basic white, but again, that’s up to you.  But to your question of feeling vulnerable, I take it you mean sexually, because when I was standing in your place many years ago, that’s what I thought, he can get me in a second,’ Tracey addressed the questioner.

‘Exactly,’ came the answer.

‘Only if you let him,’ was how it was explained to me.  Then my instructor elaborated.  ‘This outfit gets the target thinking with their other head,’ she said to smiles and a few giggles.  ‘And that is exactly what you want.  Once you have achieved that, you have them, their wrapped around your finger.  All they can think about is in, their sole focus allowing you to execute your plan and them if that is part or all of it.  This shirt and heels, if needed, is the art of distraction.  You lead them to a place, let them catch you and finish the assignment.  You don’t let them in, unless you want to.  This is power ladies,’ Tracey said, running her hands down her shirt.  ‘Power gives you control, something you always want.  We will work on that as we go along.  I hope that helps,’ she said to nods from all.  

‘Good now let's move on and start from the ground up.  Heels, I prefer them for a number of reasons.  As I said, I prefer basic white with the white shirt, but you can mix colours, some work very well with other shirts

‘As I said before, heels are your choice, you all have the legs for either action.  But I will add a few caveats and a few prejudices.  Don’t wear heels if it makes you taller than your target and if you are taller  than them without heels, let him have a look at you from across the room, then walk away toward a bed or a sofa.  This will accomplish several things.  One, your look and the tease, remember to create the seduction, get him thinking with that other head and once you stretch out, very important ladies, ways stretch your body, so as much, never curl up, you disappear and take away those valuable legs as a working asset.  Second, the shoe itself, you will notice these are all slip ons.  As an aside, how many of you have seen The Silencers, Nancy Kovacks scene?  Excellent, she wore a Slingback, a bad choice.  Now I realise it's just a movie, but in your case it will be real.  While you can fight in heels, it's easier not to and when things can devolve quickly you need to be ready, a Slingback does not come off with the snap of a leg as a pump does.  Also, the line up or down a leg is much better in a pump than a Slingback, the eye's glace is seamless from one to the other.  Now let’s go deeper on heels.’ she said, picking up her pair.

‘Inside the stem of this shoe,’ Tracey said, turning back the heel point, as she did a small tube with a needle silently emerged.  The instructor took it out and showed it.  ‘Whatever drug you want can be loaded in, all of it is stored in your makeup kits.  It can be used in a myriad of ways, let me demonstrate a few,’ she said, replacing the heel point, slipping on the shoe and walking over to a trainee.  

‘I think I may have not released all the buttons I should have on you.  Let me fix that.  There, that’s much better,’ Tracey said in a soft voice, her hands resting on the buttons before snaking up and around the trainees neck.  ‘Well, aren’t you going to thank me trainee,’ she added, pulling the woman’s lips to hers.  ‘You call that a thank you, I think you can do better than that,’ Tracey added and the trainee replied.  A bent leg, a subtle hand drop, a turn and the needle was pressed against the skin of the trainee breaking the kiss as the trainee jumped back.  

‘That is one reason for wearing heels,’ she smiled at them.  ‘You kiss wonderfully my dear,’ she added, then moved to another, the Curve trainee.  ‘In that shirt or not, you are one complete package, a powerhouse, those thighs are taut, ready to unleash their fury,’ Tracey said as she ran her hands about them, before slipping behind her, arms enfolding her waist to an audible sigh.  ‘These guns of yours, so firm, what a weapon,’ Tracey breathed hotly on the back of her neck as her hands caressed the Curve’s breasts.  ‘I bet you could smother an enemy agent with them.  You have a monument of a body,’ she added as light kisses found the back of the woman’s neck while her arms swept up her sides.  That was too much for the trainee, she turned her head to kiss her instructor.  

‘Oh no my dear, you need to remain still, unless you really want to feel me.  The art of seduction or distraction.  While you were otherwise engaged my body was very active about yours,’ she whispered hotly in her ear, she in heaven until she heard the click of heels.  

The other trainees came together in a semi circle as they watched their instructor wrapped about the Curve trainee, her ankles crossed over themselves, one heel point locked behind the other.  

‘Come on Marcie use your body,’ the trainees encouraged.  

‘Yes Marcie, please do, if you dare.’ Tracey whispered in her ear.

The trainees were treated to Marcie using her incredible body to its as yet full potential as she swayed and snapped, using her power and suppleness in an effort to dislodge Tracey who only tightened with each movement until Marcie lost her balance and the two flopped to the floor.  Marcie lasted several more minutes before Tracey kissed her cheek and released.  

‘Heels give you leverage and added strength, excellent when you want to kill with your body,’ she explained as they took their places again.  ‘Now for my other shoe.  In this one,’ said explained, turning the point back and turning around from them.  ‘Is a dart, deadly or just a toxin is up to you, you can have the other shoe with the other variation if you wish,’ she said, touching a button on the sole of the shoe next to the top of the heel.  A dart embedded in the chair she was sitting in when they came in instantly.  ‘Good for you to thirty feet,’ she smiled, slipping it back on.  ‘Of course there are all kinds of variations as to what you can have, for instance, in the toe point of this one,’ she explained, pushing down hard with one leg, is a double sided knife blade.’  The girls watched it pop out.  ‘And in my other, an ejected needle, for a more close up in my arms delivery.  He may be expecting one thing, but not the other.  There are of course many variations, may I borrow your shoes,’ she said to a trainee.  ‘Now, open the points and put them together for a few seconds then slowly pull them apart.’

The trainee did so, watching in amazement as a white filament emerged from the points attached to each point.  

‘Your own nunchucks,’ she smiled.  ‘You’ll learn how to use them in class.  ‘But, they also make an excellent strangulation wire.  There are however two other variants, my personal favourite is constriction.  Should the assignment be a capture only, you simply start at one point and finish at the same, pulling the wire out as you go and wrapping it about the target.  To make things easier and quicker, I would recommend paralysing them first in a standing position.  You simply weave the wire up and then down in a crisscross pattern around then tightly, then slip the heel into the other locking the bind in place.  If however you want something more exotic, use the same procedure only substitute the wire for a heat activated constriction one.  Any questions on anything so far?’ she concluded.

‘Yes,’ a stunning redhead trainee said.  ‘Wouldn’t sheer gauze covering yield the same result as this?’

‘Excellent question, the answer can be yes, but there is a consideration to make,’ Tracey said as she walked over and put her arms around the redhead, her wrists locked behind her neck.  ‘Suppose your target is not exactly prince charming or heavy on the looks department or simply not who you expected to seduce, maybe it's just a minion from their organisation because your covers been exposed, not fault of your own of course,’ she added with a smile.  ‘You still want to seduce, but not get too close if you follow me.  A shirt allows you to get him, then do this, all with a seductive smile,’ she explained as her knee came up between the redhead's legs, gently making contact with her mound.  ‘From there as he doubles over in pain you can use your knee to deliver a second blow and so on.  I usually find the second strike knocks them cold.  From that point you can decide how to eliminate them.  With a gauze negligee you can run the risk and it has happened that one foot holds the material down, thus the knee never reaches its mark.  If that happens you better have an alternate plan and fast.  With the shirt, it's never an issue.  But hold onto the gauze negligee idea, you may be surprised what an incredible weapon it can be as well, but again, that is another class.  

‘Now moving on we come to the shirt.  We’ve covered the cut and fit but two things remain.  Collar is always down and some buttons are always left undone.  In the case of you my dear,’ Tracey said, coming to the Curve trainee.  ‘One more distraction for him,’ she added, undoing another button.  She checked and adjusted the others then asked if they were feeling more confident about themselves now.  She smiled at the yeses.

‘Now for basic but not necessarily mandatory weaponry.  Hold out your hands, so I can inspect.  Almond and Mountain Peak, excellent choices for scratching and cutting, but we’ll deal with the scratching aspect for this discussion.  As stated, this outfit gets him into your arms, those arms holding him close around the neck, it's an easy finish, I’ve done it many times, both right away and delayed.  You go to all this effort, you want a reward of sorts,’ she smiled.  The male is so focused and thinking with the wrong head, about getting into you they never notice.  I prefer to deliver mine mid kiss, but that’s up to you.  Now for your lips.  Don’t get too dependent on the wide array of lipsticks we have ladies.  There is such a thing as too much of a good thing or more importantly, going to the well once too often.  You can use one trick to set up another,’ she said to confused looks.

‘I see I need to explain, just let me get this box and we can start.  For those of you that don’t have thick and curly hair you’ll need one of these,’ she said.  ‘And for those of you that do, you can also use them, just not for today's class.’

 

‘Excellent job ladies now we can add the weapons.  Of course, the comb is a weapon by itself.  The tines are razor sharp and tipped in a poison or toxin of your choice, just don’t insert them too far into your hair.  On some of the more elaborate ones, a button on one end silently can eject a knife blade or a needle.  Now as for the hair, let's try these beauties.  

'Take one of your choice that you think will work and pass along the box.  Excellent, now take this mirror and conceal it in your hair just like Barbara did in The Silencers with her knife.  Now all of these are intimate kills, by that I mean delivered with a kiss.  His eyes will be closed and his senses occupied by your lips, tongue and pressing body.  Slip the knife in at the base of the skull.  Yes, it's messy, but it works.  The lipstick case knife is the easiest to conceal, however you can also conceal a garrote wire as well as several hairpins, both poisonous or not, those don’t have to be concealed.  You all did an excellent job at concealment,’ she said after inspecting each trainee.

‘Now a final thing, the comb and the brush.  Teasing your hair in front of a male target seems to trigger something inside them, something akin to applying lipstick while the watch.  They will be drawn to you, it's very easy to let them sweep you up in their arms so long as you hold onto the brush or comb.  The its a simple end as again there brain is somewhere else and didn’t even register you kept it in your hand.  I will add, at least give them the pleasure of a goodbye kiss before you eliminate them.’

‘I want to thank you for being such an attentive group.  Depending on my schedule and mission assignments I may see you again for other classes on various topics.  I always close by asking if there are any topics you would like us to cover.  T can be anything, clothes, cosmetics, accessories, let your mind wander.  Don’t be afraid to speak up or you can email me if you like.’

barrie125cayahoo.ca

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