Shit. Mo moved over, lost the draught and lost speed. His body wasn’t at all aerodynamic on this bike, that made it even worse. He could just see Gr...ce going round a right-hand bend up ahead. He kept going, though he could feel his legs starting to die already.He went round the bend and came to a road off on the left. He’d better check. He stopped and pulled out his phone to call Grace. After a few rings there was the sound of rushing air and a faint “Hi” - her phone in the fancy handlebar. Of course you can come in here any time you like." Damn' right I can. And you will get up and show some respect, when your Lord and Master enters."Swearing silently Anne got up from her desk and faced him. "Much better. Now haven't you forgotten something?"He sat down on the bed and leaned back comfortably looking at her. Anne racked her brain. Did he expect her to kneel again? He had never told her so. Morris shook his head."Just two days since you so nicely posed for the pictures and already. How exactly do you sneak into the largest temple in the city and steal the Jewel of Desire off its central alter in a place where you couldn’t blend in with anyone and half the town must’ve been up your cunt by now?The answer was to wait for nightfall. At least by then she’d have a prayer of a chance. And if all else failed, she had a tiny flask in her coin purse given to her by a sea witch for the price of a little tongue on clit action. It held the witch’s nether juices, mixed with her spit,. A decorated pillow for sex. A soft malleable pain slut, always ready for mistreatment, always on the brink of pain, always able to travel over that brink for her barbaric mistress. Then would come the evening. The approach of her lesbian owner that heralded hours of service, punishment and torment. A dominatrix with no chains or cuffs. They would not be required because Chantel would present cunt and ass without any restraint. The owner would coo over the helpless object of her desire,.