" here take my gloves, sorry there a little dirty from the farm but they r warm, i pulled them off and gave them to her. "thanks" "no prob" i replyed.... we were almost to the back door when she started to slip on a patch of ice and went to reach out for somethi g and caught ahold of my hand, i held on and lifted her back up before she could realy hit the ground." thanks im so sorry look i got ur pants wet with the slush, it makes no sence, slush here ice there! i HATE winter!" i quickly let go of. Look at my cock and think of the way I will use it on you. I take my riding crop and slap your tits until they are red. You do not squeal or scream. You are creaming as I whip you because you are a whore and a slut and you enjoy the pain that Master gives you. Then I touch your cheek and tell you how wonderfully well you are doing. Pain and pleasure. You feel both. You want both. You need both." Now you may touch me, little whore. Touch Master’s cock and stroke it with love. Lean forward and. I was too hot and desirous of orgasm to be anything but curt. “Jerk off for me,” I said, my voice, although commanding, was what the romance novels would call ‘husky.’ “Now.” The look on his face changed from somnolent incomprehension to a dawning recollection of our little games of cribbage, his lost bet, and his position as the one who took the orders for tonight. I stripped down the covers, and turned on the reading lamp on my side of the bed, making an island of light in the dark ocean of. Gay.Bad thought. Why was I thinking it?But it wouldn't go away.It was like allowing yourself to go to a place younever allowed yourself to go. Once you were there, youwanted to look around a little. Get some postcards.Buy the t-shirt.Mike visited there frequently. Had a passport andeverything. Frequent fucker miles.I decided to think a little about what it would belike. Just visit a border town, sort of. Don't drinkthe water. Not go to the capital or anything.I imagined what it would be like to.