Having it washed while she was a slave was strange.She began her stretching after she was dry, spending the next hour going through her normal routine... She was then led into the kitchen and fed. She wondered if she was to spend the next year eating from a bowl on the floor. It might be awkward to be fed that way at the office but that was her owner’s responsibility, not hers.It wasn’t long before it was time to leave. She was given a dress and pulled it over her head. It fit loosely, thereby. "Abigail took a bite of the cold pastry, and she looked over at him. "Spoilt with me, were you?"Simon grunted. "And what 'boot Alistair."Abigail blushed and grunted; Simon pressed her and she groaned. "He isn't super-stud," she told him and then recounted the tale of her barely touching him and him ejaculating."Second time better," Simon suggested and Abigail raised her eyebrows. "Ah OK. That bad?" Nice guy. Crap at ... well, we never got onto the good stuff. Was spoilt with you." She raised. All three stages were spectacular. She was gorgeous looking, her tits were high and round, her eyes, well ... I have ever since wondered how to describe her eyes, but I can't tell you. They touched me where I live — a profoundly unnerving experience.Her name was Aimee and she preferred her coffee weak and sweet. I did not find that out, of course. I was as usual still getting the knot out of my tongue when good slick old Arnie had already poured the coffee for her, complimented her on her name,. As I gawked I said, ‘It’s too bad I can’t get a look under the table.’ ‘Yeah, too bad.’ She wasn’t very talkative now, which was a good sign. I knew her pretty legs were spread and her hand was up her skirt. Probably by now it was inside her panties, but this time I couldn’t watch the intimate details, only her face. She began to relax, then began to get into it. She glanced around furtively a couple more times, but she was obviously enjoying herself. Pretty soon her eyes closed, then her full.