Aftermath
Although time had lost its boundaries, Robin Anderson supposed it was midnight six months earlier when Master came for her.
With a cane he raised welts on her backside, and without removing his clothes let her caress him with her mouth, deposited a line of warm thick semen up her rear opening, and then fingered her front hole to conclusion. He carried her naked flesh to the elevator, and then down to the street like a bride to her marriage bed. “You will not dishonor me, will you slut?” he asked bending at the waist and dumping her collared and hobbled into the open iron chest positioned on the same rusted truck bed she tolerated after the Crystal Room. She recalled the laughter and amusement of the guards; and, later that night, and during all the next day, and until Monday m
