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back late last night and as soon as I arrived I heard a noise outside my room just as I was preparing to hit the sack. First, I thought it could be wild animals or something, since we’re in the middle of nowhere, so I kept checking outside, but saw nothing.
    Shoot, did someone try and break in here last night or what? I found pins on the floor by the doorway as if someone had tried to pick the lock.  I had security walking up and down throughout the night, so maybe they got startled.
    The clients were supposed to have left their purses in the bags provided for them, which I put on the bus. How did they get pins? Shit, some women are just plain stubborn in their ploy to get what they want.  Then, again they could have had them in their hair when they got here.
    They have all they need in the cabin: hair bands, dryer and shampoo. I don’t remember there being pins. Maybe there is and I wouldn’t know it because I’m not the one who sorts out their rooms. Tina does that shit. I’ll ask her if she puts anything other than band in there. If not, I need to go through their rooms while they’re in one of their sessions to see what else they’d managed to sneak in.
    Tomorrow, is another day. I´m whacked.  So, I lock my door, hop in the shower, change and get ready to have the first official training session. 
    Their alarm goes off at seven, as it will for their entire stay. They have thirty minutes before they line up in their uniforms, ready to go.
    As I make my way outside to where they’ve formed a line, I’m in heavenly shock.   They are standing in numerical order.  What the fuck?
    Both numbers three and six are buck naked.  What fucking size are they?  I can’t take my eyes off those big fucking tits on number six.  Shit, they could suffocate a man to death.  I have visions of her riding me and smacking me into tomorrow with those things hitting my face.
    Did they go to breakfast that way?  I don’t give a fuck.  I contain my anger and carry on like I haven’t noticed.  I march up and down in front of them like I’m their sergeant and we’re in the fucking army.
    I guess they think they’re smart.  I laugh to myself. I’m going to make them pay for not listening to my instructions.  This is my camp and I’m not taking any shit.  Their schedules are up on their wall in big bold letters, so they know what to wear and when.
    “Good morning, ladies. First, we’re going on a three mile jog through the woods.”
    Some of them gasp.  Number three’s hair looks like it’s on fire.  Some of them look like natural joggers, so they should be able to keep up.  Let’s see if number six  can keep up with her big tits bouncing up and down... or the redheaded number three.  Nope, they don’t even ask for a minute to get changed.  They’re going to regret it.
    I jog in front of the line in silence and they keep pace.  As soon as we leave, number six is slightly embarrassed.  Shit, this is so fucked up.  The redhead is jogging like the ladies do at the start of Baywatch or something similar.  This shit’s unreal.
    “Continue,” I shout as I slow down and let them pass by me.  Number six’s holding her tits, running by, smiling while trying to hold on to them for dear life.  Number one shouts, “Serves you right!” There must have been a discussion about it earlier.  Shit, that’s not my problem.
    Once we get to the trenches numbers one to four look like they’re going to die.  Not only are they exhausted, but they’re also wailing like whales.  I give them a minute to catch their breath.  Some of them look like they need to lie down.
    “Ladies, you need to get used to this.  Every day is going to be tough.”
    Yes and no. I purposely made today the toughest ever.  They were supposed to go on the run, but not all the way to the trenches. I figured that some of these women had other ideas, so I switched today’s program around a little.  Sometimes, you need to be flexible, it