I reached across the night table to reach it and readthe message, first i looked at the time, it was 01:00a.m. Sunday morning. The message simply read... Master Kyle requires your services, be at my house inone hour.Knowing that it was at least an half hours drive frommy place to Master Kyle, i immediately called for ataxi to pick me up and the started to prepare myselffor delivery to Master Kyle. Master Kyle has His requirements on how His slaves'should be prepared and dressed for Him. I quickly. I decided to charm him then. Go round to his place with a bottle of wine, get friendly and ask for a little time. How could that not work? That Monday I found myself knocking on Mr Johns's door, a cheap shiraz in one hand, boobs being adjusted inside my low-cut top by the other. He couldn't refuse, he would sympathize, he's human after all, I kept thinking to myself. - Hello, Miss Brookes - he smiled as he let me in. He was a man in his 50s, not a sophisticated one but polite enough every. He took a step back from the mirror and took himself in.He was a god. From the mirror stared a football player -- no, a body-builder. Great round pecs topped a perfect set of abs. He was past six-pack, he could definitely see eight chiseled abs. His arms looked to be as big as his legs usually were, and the muscles he could see when he relax looked bigger than he had ever hoped for when flexing.His thighs were gigantic, but he was most happy with the cock between them. It was long and thickly. As I stood up she went in to the foetal position trying to protect herself, her arms holding her battered stomach.I grabbed her left leg, swinging her fully round onto her belly. I then lifted the leg up and back in a submission move. Her body was arched now, the sole of her foot barely 18 inches from the back of her head.She let out an agonising moan as I bent her leg further, putting pressure on her back, her hip and her knee.Still holding her leg, I flipped her over again, onto her back.