He wrapped his armsaround his girl and drew her down to him. She lavished him with herkisses. She was such a happy and content sissy maid in her Mas...er'sembrace.Some time later, as George relaxed enjoying a nice glass of some new andutterly obscure Malbec Collette had ordered for the house, and afterhaving gotten both himself and his sissy maid showered clean, George'scellphone rang on the table next to him. Noting the number displayed,George smiled. It was a particularly predatory. It would take us about twenty minutes to get to the hotel. On our commute, Angela would tell me of the conquests she’d made since her divorce, going into graphic details of the men she’d taken to her bed.I would often get wet from listening to her stories, and when we arrived at work, I would head right to the restroom and clean myself up before my workday began.Some days I had enough time to masturbate before reporting to my desk. I would use the small vibrator that I kept in my purse.Angela,. ”“There’s nothing to talk about. Just don’t talk about how I look. That’s literally the only thing I’ve asked of you, Wes.”“That’s an absurd request to ask of your boyfriend.”“Maybe you shouldn’t be my boyfriend if it’s so hard for you to understand.”Wes tugged me back down, pushed away the chessboard with his free hand and then pulled me into his arms.He took my hand and placed it over his heart. “I get that you’re mean, but that one hurt.”I felt the thud of his heartbeat beneath my palm. He. I was tied, spread-eagled to the bed. Master’s voice came from the doorway. “You look really pretty like that, slave,” he said. “Thank you, Master,” I said. He had the flogger in this hand and he was drawing it through his fingers. He came over to the bed and traced it down the length of my both to my pussy, which was still sore from the spanking he had given it. He turned the flogger around and pressed the handle against the opening. “Is this where she touched you, slut?” “Yes, Master,” I.
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