[email protected]. They are appreciated and warmly received.This story may be reposted or archived provided the following conditions are met:1) The...story is not altered in any way2) The story contains my name and disclaimer3) You do not make money from the storyIntroduction:It is funny and wonderful that there is a powerful connection between our fears and our dreams. Could what we fear the most actually provide the freedom we desperately crave? Do we work so hard to guard our. "Please Master, whip my tits, please teach me manners, Master. Please don't stop punishing my tits and nipples. Please abuse my body, Master, please hurt me!" I continued my pleading and begging as Master continued to assault my tits. Even when he stopped, his look told me that I should continue, and so I did. When he returned, he had a crop in his hand, and as i begged for his repeated punishment, he began to focus the crop on my nipples and the underside of my tits. I cried out, tears. " I know." He likes you." How do you know?" I have the audacity to ask a princess that knows everything."I just do." Then she backed away from me, put a finger on the side of my eyes and said, "He has pretty blue eyes and he crinkles right there when he smiles." I know." Then thinking a minute, I said, "But he's old." So are you, but I still like you anyway."I removed her from my lap, patted her butt and said, "Go change now so I can wash clothes." I pulled up my skirt, pushed off my pantyhose. It looked pretty good. I then tried speaking, and the 'skin' bent in slightly exaggerated ways, that made it look like the skin on my face was stretching too much. After some adjustment, I had corrected that. I could now speak, without giving away my secret.I then went to work on my hands. My damaged left hand was a bit of a problem. It was nearly healed, now just slightly smaller than my right hand, still regenerating. I decided to leave it as is; if anyone mentioned it, I could say it had.