She was still standing in front of Sir John, her skirt lifted to her waist, her cunt penetrated by his fingers. She was so wet that she thought she must be dribbling down the inside of her leg.
‘So you have been a good girl indeed,’ he said, ‘and what of your thoughts? Have they been pure, or slutty?’
This was always the hardest part. However successful she might be in fulfilling the requirements as regards what she was allowed to do, or not do, she found it almost impossible to police her thoughts. Fortunately, Sir John was already revelling in what he called her ‘dirty, deviant little mind’. Andrew had encouraged her to tell him of her fantasies. He liked to hear what she thought about when she m*********d, or in her idle moments while travelling, or just before she fell asleep at nigh
