Oh dear! It seems I've upset Ms Whitney Morgan by being a better dancer than her little step-sister, and she's decided to take matters into her own hands. I'm XXXX into the room, walking on my knees, my maroon legwarmers little protection from the hard wood floor. The intense grinding on my bones too much to bare, I manage to get my barefeet beneath me, duck walking on the balls of my feet. Whitney hooks an arm under my back and around one bound leg and hoists me onto the couch with a grunt.

I wriggle and roll around as Whitney explains why I find myself in this situation. I grun... Show more