Sometimes the buttplug is small; other times I'mstretched to the limit. Mistress Mommy wants me to be "versatile" and to"embrace the variety." Whateve... that means. But I do soooo enjoy buttplugs!Away from home, I can be anything and everything from a Catholicschoolgirl; to a French maid; to Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz ... oractually anything I'm hired to be. I wear heels and bows no matter what,and sometimes Mistress Mommy adds garterbelts and stockings. I don't own apair of panties – not. After about 20 minutes Mollys pussy orgasmed one final time and then her eyes went dark and she died when Stacey saw that Molly was gone and only meat was left in her place she threw more coal into the pit and moved her spit closer to the flames to cook the meat for the next hour at a higher temperature to get the spit out of her as soon as possible and get me on it as fast as possible, while Molly was finishing her ride on the spit I was over by the picnic table bent over it hands tied behind. “Bob,” she sighed. “You’re either going to be in our lives, or you’re not.” I winced and she reached to touch my forearm. “If you are going to be in our lives...” She stopped and I could tell she was struggling to communicate. She started again. “It’s like a giant picture puzzle. I know how they want to put it together. I just need to figure out where I fit into the picture.”“How do you want to fit into the picture?” I asked.“I don’t know,” she sighed.“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say.She stood. But, the feeling was halted by a physical touch. Where in the hell he got it she would ask later, for the feathery touches she was now feeling actually came from a feather. In single grazing motions her neck, arms and chin were assaulted first. As each place was touched in turn a raised trail of goose bumps appeared instantaneously. Every erogenous zone was erect before the feather ever came close to her nipples and the lips of her pleasure canal. Her body and mind wanted to run headlong into.