If you move at all, if I catch you trying to look at me, I'll kill you where you stand" he commands, digging in his bag again and coming out with a wa... of black, shiny material.Rachel shakes her head quickly, stammering "No, no, I won't, I won't move" and stands still, shivering as much from nerves as the damp cold, wondering what on earth he's going to do to her now...Reaching up behind her head, he picks the knot of her soaked stocking out of the tangled, wet mass of her hair, giving untying. But if either of my stockings are creased I will spend the whole evening worried I will be looking like bruised fruit on a supermarket shelf rather than first choice. I blame my ex husband for this, it’s definitely his fault. I wouldn’t need to be going out looking ‘my best’ if it weren’t for him showing up.For years we were married; happily I thought. We were the model couple, him good looking, working everyday and me the stay at home wife, bringing up the k**s free to do charitable works for. It was all over in little more than five minutes. “Now we’ll leave them to dry,” said Quentin. “Take a look, girl.” Once again he held up the mirror ... and Simone gazed hopelessly on her distraught, almost unrecognisable features, seeing the nose-ring dangling and the bright pink patches on her breasts. “Pretty, eh, slave?” “Yes, Master,” replied Simone, gulping. Quentin leaned back, relaxing. “Do you know, slave,” he said, “I enjoy watching you being fucked almost as much as I enjoy fucking. I put myself in position and stay perfectly still until I am told otherwise. After standing there for some time I start to drift off when suddenly my hair is grabbed and my head pulled back. Sir's other hand wraps around my front and smacks my pussy lips as he bites my neck. I am immediately wet but force myself not to cum as I feel his fingers slide into my pussy. "Good girl. You know better don't you?" I say, “yes sir” as he is turning me around and pushing me to my knees. My mouth opens.