The Beginning of the End
A month passes, perhaps six weeks. Seems like half a lifetime. There comes a Saturday breakfast. Jackie has prepared. In finishing up, he cleans the dishes as I sit naked as always but with wrists cuffed behind my back. In my advanced state of priapism... yes little Ryan seeming to harden in simply reacting to the room air... Ms. O’Brien has deemed bondage to be a needed precaution when naked and permitted to freely strut about the house. The urge to stroke myself is indeed becoming overwhelming.
Across the breakfast table sits chatelaine Becky O’Brien. Though she wears the tantalizing loose robe as on every morning, it is particularly fetching, tied about the waist such that the folds are drawn to the sides to fully display breasts of size, shape and firmness. T
