Rosalind was not the most beautiful girl in the bumper crop of juicy cunts, but she had this mystery around her stunning body that sucked one in with ... finality that was more like prison bars and handcuffs than a bed of roses with a handy jar of lubricant to make things go smoothly.In all honesty, with Rosalind, lubrication was never a problem because that girl could whip up a firestorm of natural female juices just by rubbing her legs together. I gave her the nickname of “Cricket” because once. “Ryan.” I croaked as Ona took the chain from Maaster. “Ryan!” I cried as the door slammed shut behind us, Sam smiling hungrily. “My name is…”“Not anymore its not!” The Mistress was furious, her hand fell across my face so fast and so hard it knocked me back down to the cold hard floor. “Your name is Riley, slave and you would do well to remember it. Or I’ll make sure its the only thing you know how to say when I’m finished with you. Understand!?”“Yes Mistress.” I cried as she yanked a handful. More

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