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Stacy
Stacy For me, submission had nothing to do with bondage, or discipline. Submission was all about how to please my master and mistress. I was willing. When they trussed me up, it was for the fun of it. Except they didn't need to truss me. I was on my knees and elbows, my ass in the air. I could feel Peter's hands on me, caressing my buttocks, probing my genitals. I trusted him implicitly. I wanted him to do whatever he felt like doing. His pleasure was my pleasure. My pleasure was his pleasure. I knew Bailey was behind me, somewhere. I knew she would help him select whatever little thing they were going to do with me. I felt the lubricant on my asshole. It was cool, cold almost. I felt my rectum tighten. I was going to get something. I loved anal. I waited. Anticipation, isn't that was Carole King sang about? The ketchup commercials from years ago? I knew it was coming. I was ready. |
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Lucky lady
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A comment, just for you.
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