Myeyes take in again and again the image of the submissive slave that I havebecome. Around my neck I wear a thick black leather dog collar: the chainl...nks of the leash feel cold against my naked back. My only clothing is awoman's old-fashioned bra and panty set, cunningly modified to torture andhumiliate a male slave. The shoulder straps of the bra are reinforced inleather; not as fetish wear, but as support. The huge bulging cups of the braare padded, not with cloth or rubber, but with twenty. She heard Anita say, “Kareema, wake up!”“Kareema, wake up,” Anita was at Kareema’s bed, trying to wake her up. It has all been a dream!“Anita, what the hell happened?” Kareema asked as she straightened herself in her bed. Anita was sitting nearby.“Guess you were having a wet dream. You were saying all kinds of things,” Anita said with a smile.“Oh, damn,” Kareema said as she also smiled.“I guess I gotta go have the shower now.”Even after the shower, Kareema didn’t say anything about the. This was just as much cause for concern as a full-scale invasion. It made her think that the sisters had an agreement with someone else who would launch a full-scale invasion once all the security posts had been demolished. Why bother with tactics? This was what confused the Sultana. The sisters appeared to be powerful enough that they could batter their way through her entire army, and there would be no opposition to them. Why would they bother with tactics of any sort? Somehow the key to. It had been a long time since I had made love to a woman. Too long. The feel of that exceptionally tight, yet liquid pussy was nearly too much to withstand. It took every ounce of willpower that I had to keep from pouring my seed into her, seconds after I had entered her from behind. We fucked in a slow, easy going rhythm there in my tiny little bed, that now proved more than adequate as I spooned her from behind. Reaching around, fondling those exquisite breasts of hers, her hard stiff little.