Then she forced him (with a cattle prod!!) to give himself an enema. “Just in case someone wants to fuck your boibitch pussy, you might want it clea... so you aren’t licking up your own dirt,” she’d explained.Then it was back to the room with the bondage gear, and she asked, “What do you want Calienté?”Cal was tired, he hurt and only the fact that he felt almost full after days of living on one meager meal a day kept what had been force fed to him down. “I want to go home.”“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII”. It reminded me of my step-dad, who actually was a construction worker.The fingers pawed through the air until I leaned forward and let him feel my chest. I still had a bra and tank top on, but most guys didn’t mind that. As his fingers touched the fabric of my top they recoiled, like he was surprised. Slowly his hand came back, probing my breasts cautiously. “Wow, they’re enormous,” he said.“Thanks.”“Are they real?”“Sure are,” I said. I reached up and pulled down the cup of my bra, taking the. That left around four percent that might have redeeming value. Now under aged vaginas is another matter entirely, not so much because of the pussy but because of the law.I smiled at his wit and gave him my best optimistic theory. “Maybe you just got a bad one. You know, like an under cooked chicken wing.”That seemed to cheer him up.“Chuckling he said. “Oh fucking youth, their invulnerable.”I sure didn’t feel invulnerable when Sally ripped my heart out. My problem was, well that is incorrect.. “I’m hoping you’re not just fucking with me,” I said, point-blank.“No…I’m not fucking with you. I’ve wanted to see you like this for a long time,” he answered, as he approached the table. My hands shook, as he gently unwrapped the towel, removing it from my grasp. Walking behind me, he lifted my chin, wanting me to watch him in the mirror. His large hands slid down my arms to my waist. My heart was pounding in my chest; my eyes focused on his hands, which had traveled up my ribs and rested.