She would choose, for herself, the time and circumstances of her worst ever torture. She decided on a date in late July, much nearer to the hour when ...er mission would be completed, and with long enough for her to recover her strength before the final great task.She knew that once the Mistress had used the Whip on her just one time, the demon-possessed woman would pretty soon become addicted to this latest and worst cruelty.By the time five months had passed without a good reason for using the. ." I strip off my own shirt, the black lacy bra barely concealiling my C-cups. "I'll get that for you!" she volunteers, completely naked except for her pink thong, not covering her perfectly smooth, shaven pussy. Unclasping my bra before I can object, her hands slip around and take a firm hold on my breasts, one in each cool hand. I moan as she gently squeezes, playfully fondeling my nipples that are standing at attention. She is grinding her body against my back, and making no attempts at. Several of the small ones... pixie's I guess, quickly filled my plate andbrought me a crystal cup, filled with a thick golden colored liquid.Strange fruits filled my place, as did some sort of meat that I couldn'tquite identify. I only hesitated a moment before I took my firsttentative bite of a blue fruit that resembled golf ball sized cherry."It's good," I muttered, licking my lips in surprise. Good was actuallyan understatement since the unfamiliar fruit was actually. How’re doin’ today?’ ‘Oh, you know, Mr. Baxter. Each day just sort of nudges the one before it. It just all sort of goes on—a bit too long, if you ask me.’ Clem Baxter watched Louise Stewart from 12A move arthritically down the walk between the two old, red-brick apartment houses facing each other. Clem had been the super for these buildings for nearly twenty years, and he knew most of the tenants by their apartment numbers, but he’d grown to know the names of those living in his own hall..