"Why did you return, slave?" I asked. Why did I add the 'slave', now? She flinched."I am your slave?" Her voice was incredulous."Yes," I breathed deep...y."Who are you?" She uttered the words in staccato, putting stress on the middle word of the sentence. "Where do you come from?"I hesitated. Feeling an urgent need to control the situation, I shook my head. No... "Why did you return?" Look, You want to own me, and control my life? For real?"I paused. To control every aspect of her life. What she. Checking for tell tale physical signs of a prelude to an unauthorised spillage.Chloe-Celine moved slowly beneath him as close as she dare, to better observe every tremulous shudder and fat droplet of milt as it fell.She needed to balance poor Arran’s obvious and almost overwhelming need to spill against her skill to constantly adjust his electro stimulation, so that he remained teetering on the edge of a orgasmic abyss for as long as was possible.She desperately wanted to match the peerless. More

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