Wonderful. Oh yes, Yes, YESSSS! Oh it feels so good. I'm ready Master! Take me, let me serve you! Oh YESSSSS!" Back at home Kris again screamed "NOOOO...OOOO... "...OOOOOO!" She awoke with a start, quickly looking around her, seeing that all was normal, as it should be. It was only a dream, in fact, the same nightmare she'd had several times recently. There was no TV, no baseball game, and no fog turning thousands of men and women into slaves. "Thank the Master," she sighed, for though a Bassae. I bent down and kissed her softly, then more passionately as my hands caressed and carefully rubbed her breasts. She moaned into my mouth and slid her hands down to my prick. Finding it nearly at full mast again she groaned in lust.My hands quickly wandered south and found her a bit sticky. Realizing she was mentally ready to climb aboard but not physically I moved around so that I could remedy that. She was frustrated for a moment but when presented with my cock became distracted and then. "At least I went to the top Kelly while you slept with every fucking loser on ECW," Brooke snaps back, "I mean Punk I understand but Balls? Hell bet you did Sandman and all those other old broken down freaks!" "At least I knew their fucking names when I joined the company," Kelly yells getting visible angry at the guest referee, "And I didn't sleep with all the losers on ECW cause I never slept with you!" Brooke growls, lifting her arm back in anger when suddenly from out of nowhere Layla jumps. Cynthia stands stock still, staring at me. I take a sip of the single malt scotch, and set the glass down with a clink. I reach up, and tilt the table lamp down on its side, the light bulb aiming through the top of the shade. I flick the light switch, and the effect is to illuminate Cynthia in a baby spotlight. Ah, Cynthia. Sweet, smart, and oh so sexy, Cynthia. Her auburn hair is pulled up on her head. Her pale skin gleams in the soft light of the bulb. Her little black dress clings to her.