She was, so it seemed, a seamstress like my mother. Her nimble fingers worked thread and needle until the selected garments fit me as if made for me. ...he sewed my initials into them and they were hung on a separate rack and I noticed that other garments bore the initials of others. I assumed these were the other ladies of the house. A selection of fine undergarments were set aside for me, garments of the sort I could never have afforded and of the most delicate and elegant construction. Jenkins. It wasn’t until I was clutching onto them that I realised what I was doing. The thought ran through my head in a millisecond. My nightie had ridden upwards; I could feel that my behind had been exposed. Not a lot, but just enough to have been visible for a split second. The moment only lasted an instant. I straightened up and put the beers on the side next to me. “Where’s the opener?” I asked, turning around, trying not to blush. I caught a glimpse of Drew, who was avoiding eye contact with me,. Joseph had a staff of at least a half-dozen beautiful young women at his beck and call, all scantily clad in mock ‘French Maid’ outfits. The little black satin dress was extremely low cut, with off-the-shoulder short sleeves, so that it was possible to look down the tops to see their tits and nipples on display. The flirty little hem flared out and barely covered their asses and pussies. It was obvious from their least movements that panties were not worn. Long black fishnet stockings came up. ”Nate looked into Rachel’s eyes, the pair of them now inches apart. His handsmoved upwards, each grabbing a lapel, slowly drawing them apart, pulling therobe away from Rachel’s silky flesh. He looked down and smiled at her exposedtits. Nate’s eye flashed with power as he sensed his phenomenal mutant powersmass in his body, pooling in his cock, yearning to be expelled into the bodyof this beautiful young girl.“You can’t do this, Nate,” Rachel sobbed,.