All the things I am going to write about are true. The names have been changed because my Master told me to change them.
Several months ago, I met my Master in a chat room. It seemed he had the attention of the ladies in the room, so at first I didn't think he noticed me. While others threw themselves at him, I was more reserved. Soon he began talking about things I had some knowledge about and we started talking.
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Snaking a finger through the ring in the collar now around my neck, Mistress pulled me forward to meet Her in a fierce kiss. Her tongue moved into my mouth, possessing me. Moaning, I felt myself melt into Her, opening to Her kiss. Soon, I felt Master's hand on the back of my head, pulling me from Her, drawing my mouth to His. Despite having just sucked His cock, this was... unexpected.
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I lay bored in my bed, idly tapping my finger on my upper thigh. It was sticky hot outside; the type of hot that causes your clothes to cling to your skin, so I lay sprawled out under my fan, trying to keep cool. Even though I was wearing a velvet red string bikini, I was still flushed with tiny droplets of sweat crawling down between my breasts, and I was bored.
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Serene smirked at Garret in a suggestive manner, raising her arms and crossing them behind her back. She knew she was playing on dangerously thin ice, and a flash of Victor ran through her mind. What would he do if he knew she was hitting on Garret like some cheap village whore? She loved him, but Garret, and the memories of times past, set her on fire in ways that Victor never had. His hands alone were enough to make her want to drag him to the floor and ravage him, but then...she had a thing for hands.
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PROLOGUE
James Smith was lounging on the couch in his favorite beat up pair of pajamas, slowly perusing the Sunday paper sprawled on the floor beside him. He was flipping from page to page in the Entertainment section when something caught his eye. His sound of disgust caught his wife Sarah's attention as she sat at the dining room table looking through circulars and clipping coupons.
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I awoke surprisingly refreshed after the excitement of the previous evening with Davinia and JJ.
I could not believe my luck, not one, but TWO of them, and I little old me had fucked the pair of them.
Holy shit, and what is more, they were not finished yet. So much for seminars being boring.
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His hand came down again on her bare bottom in front of him. The slap was loud. She whimpered softly. The sting of his hand excited her and she felt the warmth of her secretions flood between her legs. Her flesh vibrated and teased her as she felt them resonate to her sex and sensitive breasts.
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She tried the dress on for the fifteenth time that month, and once again hoped that this time she'd feel different. As she stared into the full length mirror that had been moved into her room, she noticed how the whiteness of the dress seemed so much brighter against her pale skin. How her red hair and blue eyes seemed that much more pronounced by the additional paleness wrapped around her body.
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My first memories are of being a slave. Perhaps I was one in a former life, perhaps not. In one of my memories I was bound and stood on a box in front of men. There was smoke, the click of ice in glasses, course laughter and my fear. My fear was also my arousal.
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If time could be recognized, then we would have no need for clocks or calendars. These things are metres set against a background of haze and dream. The truth of time is that we live it. We breathe in moments and release seconds to the atmosphere where they bound and prance, teasing us before disappearing completely. They taunt us with their ephemerity.
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