EXTRACT FOR
Journalistic Perversion
(Emily Sinclaire)

Waking feeling completely recked and totally invigorated from the night before, Nikki decided to take a different approach to investigating Mooseridge Farms in the hopes of not only seeing things up close and personal, but to give her poor womanhood a well-deserved break from the brutal pounding it took the night before. Dressed in a tastefully sexy royal purple skirt suit with matching heels, she drove across town and pulled into the farm's long driveway 43-minutes later. Stopping at a gate, she rolled her window down and was just about to reach for the intercom when a male voice came out of it.

"No solicitors."

"Pardon me, Sir, but I'm not a solicitor."

"Then who are you and what are you doing on my private property?"

"My name is Nikki Steele and I'm an investigative journalist doing a piece on Lynwood's top farms. If you have a few minutes I'd love to take a tour and ask some questions."

"Yeah, right. I don't bye that pile of manure for a second. You've got thirty seconds to be off my property before I call the police and have you forcibly removed."

"You're right. What I said was a lie, but I thought it was better than the truth which is there are a lot of rumors going around that farmers in this city are using their vast swaths of land to hide illegal activities. If that's true then I completely understand your hostility and desire to get rid of me. But if it's a lie then I'd love nothing more than to prove it."

"Oh? And how would you prove it?"

"By doing my job, Sir. By taking a tour of your fine facilities and asking questions to put the people of Lynwood at ease."

"I assure you we don't engage in illegal activities."

"Are you willing to let me see for myself?"

"There are some forms you'll need to sign?"

"Such as?"

"Just a few waivers and consent forms. If you're willing to sign and follow them to the letter than I'll give you a tour and answer all the questions you have."

"A bit odd to get onto a farm, but I agree," Nikki replied.

"Then drive up to the house and park on the left and I'll be out to meet you."

"Yes Sir." A beat later the wrought iron gate slid open and Nikki drove the last 200-feet up the driveway. Pulling to the left, she saw the front door of a beautiful 2-story brick farmhouse open and a giant of a man emerge. Standing well over 6 feet, the deeply tanned man was 225-pounds of muscle. Getting out of her car, she smoothed out her skirt and then walked up to him hand extended. "Thank you for seeing me."

"You're not in yet," the man replied, holding out a clipboard. "Read and sign everything and I'm all yours," he said without shaking her hand.

Taking the clipboard, Nikki read the first document - a liability waiver releasing the owner of the farm from any responsibilities should anything of an accidental nature occur on the premises. Shrugging, she signed. The second page was a consent to being recorded form which she also signed. Then came a sexual consent and waiver which gave her pause. "What sort of farm are you running that requires me to sign a sexual consent form?"