Guilt ridden, she wrote these words: I am a slave to the pain and taste, feel and touch of sex. I breathe humiliation being thrust upon me like a chil... being chastised. Will the Lord ever forgive me for this habitual transgression – this lust of the flesh? I feel as though I can’t shake it. Every time I think I want to let it go, I give in and give up and let the pain, not the dominant, act as my master. Will this internal struggle ever end for me? It calls out to me in the middle of the night. When I am tired and my muscles need healing, I go for the regular bellaniese massage, and when I feel horny, then I go for the other kind of massage. Coming back to the story, on this day I was not feeling like going for a standard massage and wanted to get satisfied.I went to my regular massage parlor, everyone knows me there and no questions asked.I have a regular lady who does the massage and gives service, so I went into the parlor and asked or Salma (not her real name), and she came out. “Bigger tits,” he mused, and Mandi’s eyes had opened in shock as her boobs obediently grew in size. “Longer hair too,” he added, and a strange sensation traveled through her scalp as her Master’s commands became reality.A shockwave of pleasure ran through her entire body as she realized that Master not only controlled her actions, he controlled her very flesh. If he ordered her to grow a pair of cat ears, she had no doubt that she would. She was entirely his: Body, mind, and soul.They’d fucked. As we passed them out we were both groped liberally by all of the men.Rob lit the grill. Then he came over to the table and said, “I was telling Mel about your new outfits, Dawn. Now that the guys have seen them, why don’t you two put them up so they don’t get stained?”Before we could react, Mel was sliding my skirt off and Tom was helping Grace off with hers. We quickly removed our tops and I placed all four items of clothing on a nearby chair. When I returned to the table, Grace was just.