By the time our second meeting ended, I had decided two things. First, my Master was very, very good at what he did to me. And second, there was no way I could wait until Christmas for our next visit.
Almost a month had passed since our second "date." I had been teased, pleased, fucked, and damn well tortured during our short time together. Even though he had to leave early, we kept in touch over the phone. His contact was addicting;
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My wife doesn't know about my sessions. She can never know. We live a very normal life. Too normal. Our sex is bland. It's always the same thing. Thanks to the internet, I have realized that I am interested in a lot of strange things. Karen would never understand. So I have my sessions with Mistress Nikki to get what I need sexually.
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John inserted the key into his front door as quietly as he could. He slipped inside, putting his laptop case down ever so gently, and closed his eyes for a moment. Oh, hello you! There she was, padding barefoot down the stairs. She did not come to him; she stopped three steps up, so that her womanly pubis was level with his mouth, so that he had to look up to her, almost look up her.
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I lay on the bed, naked, spread, bound at three corners. Only my right arm is free, holding in a numb hand my vibrator, waiting.
Finally you come to me, and sitting down, your weight dips the bed, creating a well of gravity that I can feel, pulling my helpless body towards you.
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Ceaselessly, my heel taps frenetically- i'm all nerves. i can't tell if it's the coffee or the lack of release, but i can't sit still. my senses are heightened and everything is painted with a surrealistic tinge. Every part of me is hyper sensitive to the mystery waiting for me up on the twelfth floor- i have the room number, i have the instructions ingrained in my memory. i was nearly shaking with the need to come as he fed them to me last night over the phone.
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Chapter 1
The Preparation
I stood back to look at my handiwork. Cindy, my pet and the love of my life, was stretched into a picture frame; she was going to be my canvas and my masterpiece. At 5'1", she has a slender, athletic build with a petite 34C-20-34 figure.
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The room is dark, floors are bare but for a square carpet in the middle.... it is this, most likely oriental. Your steps echo across the room.
You travel the walls, lighting fat candles as you go, and soon the room is bathed in a flickering light. Simple, but you don't need much to do your work.A knock at the door and a girl, short, tan skin, short dark hair and begging brown eyes is dragged in by her collar.
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It had been a long week. I had started work on Monday having to deal with crises that had started as soon as I left on Friday, and the fires had just gotten bigger as the week went on. I was really looking forward to getting home, having a few drinks, and just relaxing. All I needed to do first was stop and pick up some food from the grocery store.
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Eva's work at her previous job, a beach club in eastern Florida called The Wizard, had ended abruptly and full of embarrassment when she found herself trapped on a ladder being exposed to horny drunk men. Departing her job, Eva barely said farewell to her coworkers, assuming that people were laughing at her unusual predicament. In fact, many of Eva's coworkers felt that Eva left because her boss had pushed her too hard.
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It was the first time we met.
I was nervous and scared, with a small ball of anxiety low in my stomach. Once or twice I started to turn back, all the niggling doubts in the back of my mind rushing forward. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this wasn't what I wanted. Could I handle it? What if it was too much, too intense, too overwhelming? And the worst doubt of all: what if you were disappointed?
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