Once they were both in the bedroom, Paul repeated his order to her from their last session to undress him and kiss his body as flesh was exposed. She complied eagerly. Instead of having her fellate him, however, he told her to stand. “Let me inspect you, slave,” he said without affect. Paul prowled around her, as he had previously. She could feel his eyes on her. It excited her.
From behind, Paul grabbed a breast in each hand. “Whose t**s are these, slave?” he asked.
“Yours,” she responded.
““Say it,” he said, sternly.
“They’re your t**s, Master.”
He cupped her buttocks in his hands. “And whose ass is this, slave?”
“It’s your ass, P—Master.”
Paul gave her ass a good swat. “Show proper respect! I’ll ask again, slave, ‘Whose ass is this?’”
“It’s your ass, Master,” she said.”
“That’s
