"Oh, angel," he sighed, "you were amazing." And he held her while her pulsating body relaxed. Then Joey picked her up and carried her over his shoulder back up the catwalk. The audience was silent for a few seconds. Then one clap turned into a deafening round of applause. The crowd screamed and whistled, calling their names, willing them back for more.

Backstage, Joey gently set Anna down. She slapped his face as hard as she could. "What the fuck do you think you were doing?" she screamed. "That could have been the end of my career. And you've completely upstaged Alessandro. Jesus, Joey, what were you thinking?"

Joey smiled. "I think, my beautiful slave, that I was making you come harder than you ever knew you could," he said, wrapping an arm around Anna's waist, crushing her dress. "And I think that now I'm going to take you to your dressing room and do it again." He steered her to her private room and closed the door behind them. He knelt at her feet and effortlessly lifted up her expensive dress to reveal her pink panties, now soaked with her juices. Joey put his face between Anna's legs, breathing in her musky scent. "I can smell and taste how turned on you were up there," he breathed. He hooked his thumbs under the sliver of lace and slid it down to her ankles in one swift movement. His hands were on her then, thumbs tracing her swollen pussy and finally her clitoris, which was still tender to the touch, far too sensitive for Anna to enjoy Joey's hands on it, so that all she could do was shiver and squirm. "Your clit might not be able to take any more," said Joey, "but the rest of you sure fucking can." He got to his feet and spun Anna around so that she was looking at herself in the dressing room mirror: flushed and smudged, a fallen angel dressed in rags and tatters. Joey took Anna by her tousled dark hair and pushed her forward. Bent double at the waist, she rested her arms on her dressing table and closed her eyes, desperate for a moment's peace and solitude.