She had to be down at the bus stop in ten minutes.“Ham and cheese, an apple, a capri sun, and a pudding cup,” Isaac summarized as he zipped up her...lunchbox.“Thanks, Master! Now I got to go, I don’t want to miss the bus.”“You’re not running to the bus stop in this weather, I’ll drive you to school. Just give me a minute.”He then began to tense up, feeling his morning load preparing to fire. Sometimes a good handjob is the best thing in the world. He gripped the table and shuddered as he. And that's the service that you'll be performing for me. And, from now on, in your speech and in your thoughts, I am, and will forever be, your Mistress." She once again picked up the device. "I want you to walk like the sissy whore that you have become. When you walk, I want you to place one foot in front of the other and I want you to swivel your hips, and I want you to make sure you feel that nicely greased dildo moving around inside your ass. I want you to feel your thighs rubbing against. She began to struggle and panic again as me weight held her down.“Please!” She cried, “Please just let me go. What more could you want with me.” I grinned, thinking of how naive this girl was to think popping her chair was all I wanted to do to her body.“Sasha, be a good girl, and after you meet my friend Henry we’ll let you go back to your seat.”This of course was a lie. I’d make sure she was with us till landing and until my stewardess could guide her to her Russian relatives that were. I tried to tell myself it was natural. That I was just too inexperienced, because I couldn’t deny the truth of it. It had been the best sex of my life.Is masturbation sex? Not technically, but emotionally? Mentally? I like to think sexual expression is still special when it occurs alone. Masturbation can be self-love instead of self-hate if it isn’t always perceived as a substandard substitute. Maybe it was just being sixteen, but I had been happy to take my time with myself, perpetually.