Mistress picked up the ashtray and walked a few feet away from my cage to a chair. She sat down, placed the ashtray on the arm of the chair and lit a... cigarette. ‘You’re such a good boy, puppy,’ she said. ‘I love the way that you’re so obedient; eating so many nasty things for me and never complaining. Not that it would matter. Just think, someday the entire outfit I’m wearing right now will be in that bucket and you’ll get the chance to eat all this buttery, soft leather.’ As. I stood back out of the way and watched.I should have been crying and screaming and I knew it. I was about to be raped again. I might be going along and obeying every order. But I was self aware enough to know that something was different about me. Someone had done something to me to make me this way. I don't know who or what. I just knew that someone had been playing with my brain.Even knowing that, though, I felt my sexual arousal growing as I watched Craig undress. Much like his father he. Vibrations envelop me everywhere at once. I dig in and sense a tingling. We all do. A collective prickling that fizzes through the liquid and energises us. Far in the distance, there's a high-pitched cry of unbridled joy. In response, the chemical balance alters in the fluid. I swear I hear, "Yes! Fill me up!" screamed through the wall but it's eclipsed by a throaty roar and some ferocious jabs, our cocoon slamming against something pliant, yielding and deliciously wet. Once, twice, three. I wasn't sure what had been the point. Just him making sure I didn't think I was getting one over on him I guess, but he hadn't sounded accusatory. He'd just sounded like he wanted to be understood."Well, I am sorry," I said. "About leaving a mess."He waved his hand at me, his back still to me."Not sorry about fucking in your bar though," I added.He turned around and looked at me, his eyes squinting slightly, and then laughed. His laugh came out as a low burst that I could almost feel."Son of a.