Sitting in the whore'sflat, eating her food, had been one thing; looking at her face in themirror. This was real though now. I was really a prostitute... More thananything - more than the act itself - this night time wandering was asclose as I could get to living the dream.I passed houses with lights on inside. Families were eating theirdinners or watching television. Through open windows I could hearlaughter and talk. My former abode had been far more upmarket thanthese terraced hovels, but even. I keep talking to him quietly and working the beads in slowly and notice that they become easier to go in as he relaxes until all that is left is the ring at the end and my wonderful strong Master has a line of anal beads inside him. I am so thrilled I slide up to his face and tell him I am very proud of him and he kisses me softly. Then he sits up and reaches over to the cabinet and grabs the butt plug. "You are my Good Boy so I am going to give this to you" he says and he makes me lie on my. More

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