/authors/mistress-payne/Recent content in Mistress Payne on Gromet's Plaza ArchiveHugoen-usThu, 01 Jan 2004 00:00:00 +0000/stories/2004/01/01/special-order/Thu, 01 Jan 2004 00:00:00 +0000/stories/2004/01/01/special-order/<p>Mitch eyed the crumpled note in his sweaty paw. The hastily scrawled note gave him directions to the store he&rsquo;d run across on the Internet. He turned left at the next intersection, and drove his beaten pickup through the warehouse district. Pulling into the gravel lot at the specified address, he thought he might have gotten the directions wrong. Nothing about the building showed it to be anything other than one of many disused warehouses stretching through this part of town. Clambering out of his truck onto the gravel, he cautiously approached the door. A small brass plaque on the faded door was the only indication that his quest had come to a fruitful end. &ldquo;Dyna Operations Living Latex&rdquo; it proclaimed.</p>/stories/2004/01/01/special-order/Thu, 01 Jan 2004 00:00:00 +0000/stories/2004/01/01/special-order/<p>Mitch eyed the crumpled note in his sweaty paw. The hastily scrawled note gave him directions to the store he&rsquo;d run across on the Internet. He turned left at the next intersection, and drove his beaten pickup through the warehouse district. Pulling into the gravel lot at the specified address, he thought he might have gotten the directions wrong. Nothing about the building showed it to be anything other than one of many disused warehouses stretching through this part of town. Clambering out of his truck onto the gravel, he cautiously approached the door. A small brass plaque on the faded door was the only indication that his quest had come to a fruitful end. &ldquo;Dyna Operations Living Latex&rdquo; it proclaimed.</p>/stories/2004/01/01/special-order/Thu, 01 Jan 2004 00:00:00 +0000/stories/2004/01/01/special-order/<p>Mitch eyed the crumpled note in his sweaty paw. The hastily scrawled note gave him directions to the store he&rsquo;d run across on the Internet. He turned left at the next intersection, and drove his beaten pickup through the warehouse district. Pulling into the gravel lot at the specified address, he thought he might have gotten the directions wrong. Nothing about the building showed it to be anything other than one of many disused warehouses stretching through this part of town. Clambering out of his truck onto the gravel, he cautiously approached the door. A small brass plaque on the faded door was the only indication that his quest had come to a fruitful end. &ldquo;Dyna Operations Living Latex&rdquo; it proclaimed.</p>