I felt only like a weak link. Somewhat curses with homesexuality, fur affinity, exhibitionizm, masochizm, et cetera. I don't believe in the devil but ...what demons are in my unlucky heart? That was the way I was thinking all along. It used to be some cruel years till I would realize the only devil was me. When I were so stupid to punish myself for what I am, there's no-one left that I could blame, right? I can't really fight my feeling of, well, that my younger brothers and sisters, that's most. ‘All you had to say was this,’ she cleared her throat, ”Emma, take your top off, I want to see your bosoms.” ‘And you’d have done that?’ ‘Try it.’ ‘Um, Emma, take your top off, I want to see your b-bosoms.’ ‘Not so nervously,’ laughed Emma. ‘With confidence.’ ‘Take your top off, Emma. I want to see your bosoms.’ ‘Oh Simon!’ giggled Emma. ‘With pleasure!’ She shimmied her shoulders and shook her big pale breasts until the kimono fell from her shoulders and she stood there fully nude while. Her head was encased in a severe discipline hood, and the only openings on the hood were to grommets at the nose for her to breath. The hood was pulled so tight, that you could see the outline of a blindfold and the gag, even through the leather. Her hair was pulled in a ponytail, and exited through a hole at the rear of the hood. Last but not least was the collar, and again it was tall, it was at least 3 inches in the nape of the neck and four inches covering the throat. Everything was locked. Lynn was a strong, aggressive woman in a business environment, but I'd found out that many of these types of women liked to be dominated in a non-work situation. Because of this, I didn't ask for her permission when I had chained her fast.Lynn's mouth again formed a big "O" when she felt my hands at the buckle to her jeans. She started to protest, but I shoved a wad of the torn tee shirt into her open mouth and secured it with the last strip of the shirt and tied it around the back of her.