The hours however, were another mater, since she was often called to work late in to the early hours of the morning. Popular literature and television...depicted the private detective as a down at heal graduate of the school of hard knocks, who would solve murder cases, or find stolen money after beating their way through various bad guys to find the truth. The reality was a little less glamorous. She did not wear a trench coat. She did not smoke, or drink. At least, she did not drink to the. " He gestured and I walked past him slowly into the grand foyer of a large hotel. "I've reserved you the bridal suite." He raised his eyebrows, "I hope you'll like it." Bridal suite?" I stared at him. "What happened to the lake of fire and pitchforks and endless torments and stuff?" Huh?" He looked genuinely shocked. "I'm not sure," he said cautiously. Then he brightened, "But we do have a great brunch buffet, really, it's good. We call it the Bruffet. Are you hungry?" No, not really." Oh." He. For a background of the following story, the reader is encouraged to read ?Evaluation? first). RecollectionsIt had been almost a year since my evaluation and subsequent approval as a contract toilet slave to Mistress K. During that time, a lot had changed. She and I had gone through several designs of a toilet slave bench and I had grown as a slave in terms of my ability to serve Her well and in my attitude towards both Mistress K and myself. As time wore on, I had honestly begun to. Toby couldn't possibly control himself; he locked up, rigid, then exploded inside Candace's rapidly cycling tunnel. Candace, cherry-red from her hairline to the tips of her breasts, stopped dead, her vulva smashed against Toby's pubic bone, croaking incoherently while her vagina rippled and pulsed. Then she collapsed forward onto Toby's chest and went boneless.Toby chuckled to himself. "I guess you like that idea..."Candace was thoroughly embarrassed when she arose, but Toby passed it off,.