Our eyes lock as I come across the room and take the brush from your hand and brush out your beautiful blonde hair.After a few minutes, I toss the bru...h aside and put my arms around your waist, pulling you back against me.I kiss the back of your neck, and bury my nose in your fragrance. I raise my hands to your smooth, white shoulders and caress you gently. My lips trail down your neck and kiss your left shoulder, as I reach around and undo the towel, letting it fall to the floor and revealing. Once they have all had a good look, he shakes her cheeks quickly, gives you one last glance at up your sister's bottom, then walks up over to the metal structure.It is a large harness, designed to restrict the movement of every single one of her joints and support her weight from all over. He begins strapping her in; she complies limply. Once all the straps are tight and all the elastics are taut, he reveals the underside of the machine. It is clearly a very, very large buttplug. It is red. I stood there in the door, no help at all, my mind awed by that fact. She'd certainly taken her time. I found myself staring at her: the wedding dress, as she looked in her dresser for something. And expecting me to help her change.She was so beautiful in that dress. Too beautiful. That shouldn't bother me, but I couldn't help it: after all there had been that incident.Just one time: one night. I don't know what sort of mood got us to try it: I know we'd been drinking. And silly: we'd been. Eleanor looked down at him. "Anna, dear, get his hair please." She said. Despite all the trouble he was in, Tom felt a thrill go through him. Mistress wielded her authority like a katana master handling his blade. It was almost exclusively small, elegant gestures. Liquid silver grace backed by a focused strength that could cut you in half so cleanly you'd never even feel the strike. His knees were already bent but he still felt them wanting to buckle instinctively at the simple command. Anna.
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