” He lowered me again, fingers brushing over my hole from behind.He’d always said this was the perfect position for me. Shoulders taunt to hold my...bound arms comfortably, hips angled back in subservience; offering my entrance and lips to his will. Here I was exposed to him, and I should trust him to take care.I raised my chin defiantly, unwilling to let on how pleasant his touch was.“You seem to excel at pissing me off, darling.” His fingers dragged my arousal back over my ass, digging into my. ‘Kriss.’ He said finally. Kriss continued reading his book—hiding his eyes once more. Twain pushed it down to the table and stared at Kriss intently, captivated by the striking, and quietly intense eyes Kriss held. The two sat and stared at each other for a time. Kriss broke the silence. ‘What are you looking at?’ Kriss was confused. ‘You.’ There was only wonder on the new boy’s face. ‘If my uncle sees you…’ Kriss warned him. ‘He’ll what? Is it your uncle you’re afraid of or is it me?’ Kriss. Again, Luke missed the significance of the reward as Lorraine smiled, head still down, eyes lowered. "And tell me, who’s pet are you?" "Yours, Sir." The words came out quiet and tiny, but without hesitation. "Your pet. Your toy to play with." Ratcliff looked to Mr. Monroe and they traded confirming and appreciative glances. Luke saw this, wrote in his notebook. What have they done to her? Mr. Monroe reached behind Lorraine and his hand moved low on her back, out of Luke’s view. "This is my. "They are helpless and can't fight back?" Very much like that. Maybe the other part is the uncertainty of pain or pleasure — not knowing whether they will next feel the feathers or the whip — and not really knowing for sure which one they really want." Feathers?" I have a soft feather brush. It tickles at first, then becomes unbearably erotic when it covers them from head to toe. That takes a good while, but when they're tied and blindfolded, they have time to feel all the pleasure. I talk to.