How many times, she tried to recall now, had she "come" in that position down there in that steaming hot, black vinyl walled room with the white vinyl floor mat, mirrored ceiling and gimbaled stainless steel "artful" rings firmly pinned into the reflecting ceiling above, into the padded white floor below and into each other, with all those dimly illuminated, rather vague looking, strange "tools of the trade" hanging on the far, ominous, black wall behind them? As her selected third tune started, Linda swayed sexily and wantonly back and forth, staring carefully and continuously into the mirror and, thus, into those kind but firm eyes that stared ever back at her, just as constantly, almost lovingly, but with a smiling and knowing quality about them and their owner that told Linda this was no "ordinary" male.