I got off the bus about twenty minutes later, Bobby stayed on, “See ya tomorrow.” He shouted after me. I waved at him as I walked the five minutes...to my front door from the bus stop. I opened my front door and shouted that I was home. No reply. “That’s odd,” I thought, “Mom’s usually back from work by now.”I walked slowly up the stairs, jumping over the creaking one at the top when I heard a soft noise that I recognised from somewhere before. It was coming from my mom’s room. I crept towards. He traded handshakes with a few other guys before heading their way. Simran nudged her. “You know him?” “James something from psych.” “He’s cute and coming right for us.” Amisha almost said, “He probably saw your tits from outside,” but took a drink instead. “Hey, Amisha.” “Hi, James.” She gestured and introduced her friend, Simran. “You hiding out?” “No. Why?” “Two pretty girls like you, I’d think the bartender would want you out front, bring in more of a crowd.” Amisha raised an eyebrow. . "Yes, slave. A dump. A shit. I hope you're hungry." You're joking, right, Mistress?"Losing her patience with her inexperienced newbie slave, she shackled his wrists and ankles again and then turned her back to his head and sat back down. His diaper can wait. She adjusted herself, positioning her asshole over his mouth. She wiggled once more as his nose slid into the opening of her pussy.She felt the sensation building in her bowels of having to shit -- that woozy feeling in her intestines --. After we finished eating I complimented him on the meal and suggestedthat he might like to do dinner for us this evening. At first hedeclined claiming he had some work he needed to finish but when Ipressed him he backed down and agreed he would Bar-B-Que some steaks andmake another salad.He seemed relieved to be back indoors so I left him to his chores andheaded into the study. It had always been "His" study something whichhad annoyed me over the years as I was forced to use the dining.