“Close your eyes,” he said as he started squirting the baby oil out over my head.“My hair!” I cried out, but he just laughed and kept squirtin... oil from both bottles. Soon my hair was sodden with oil and I could feel it running down my face and my back. A pair of hands started rubbing the oil into my body. Since the oil kept squirting on my head it wasn’t Master Bruce. And the hands seemed too small to be Mistress June. It must be slave slut. I was sure of that when she rubbed the oil into my. I don't want to embarrass my fianc?! For some reason I've alwayspictured Brandon working in some modern high rise. So I'm surprisedwhen pulls into an alley behind a turn of the century (turn of the lastcentury that is) four story brick building and parks in a reservedspace with his name on it."You have your own space?" I ask, sounding really impressed."Well, we only have about a hundred employees, so it's not a big deal."Still, I can only see about a dozen spots behind the building, so I'mgoing. More

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