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Even Zeke was impressed, to the point of wondering how much of Kate’s torment was real and how much made for the tiny but global audience of viewers, many of whom were doubtless punishing their own slaves in concert with Kate’s ordeal. He pressed a button on the bed’s remote control to stop recording, disconnected Kate’s wristlets and anklets, and carried her to the bed. There, he put her on her feet. “Kneel, girl. That was some performance. But this here, for me, this is real.” Kate looked down at the floor. He cupped her chin and raised her face to look up. “Nod if you understand, little Katybird.” He removed the soiled panties. “Then tell me you want me to take you as my woman tonight.”
“Yes, thank you, my Lord.”
“Don’t call me that, babygirl, Master Harry is your Lord and Mast
