“I don’t want you like that: put your head on the bed, use your hands to pull your ass apart and make it look like you’re inviting me in. Got that?”
“Yes, Master.”
Soon after, Sappho felt him drive into her bowels; no ceremony, just a firm push into her rectum helped on by his hands clawing on her shoulders and, at this, she gasped but dared not let go of her bum-cheeks; if anything, she prised them further apart so her Master knew both that she wanted him and to avoid any retribution for not cooperating.
Johnston worked her hard and long and each was perspiring before he grunted, came and roared his approval; but he wasn’t finished.
There was a bar over the bed-head and, taking the leash, he strapped Sappho’s neck so close to it that her cheek went cold; then he ordered her to hol
