”“Another piece of clothing,” I countered.She didn't even hesitate. “Yes!”“You ask me first. Do you understand?”“Oh Fuck, Ryan. Yes... YES.”“If you come without permission, we're done with this. Permanently. Do you understand?”She hesitated to speak. I had reached beyond the animal that had possessed her. Calmly, but still shaky, she spoke. “Yes, Sir. Please may I continue?”“Go ahead.”She attacked herself. Hope was a woman crazed, a sublime, frenzied mess of shiny, sticky sex. . Miss Stevens stands beside him pressing herself to his nakedness. She spreads the fingers of one hand over the muscles of his chest and lets the leather strands of the flogger hang down from her hip as she caresses him. “Well, look at you.” The thick Southern Irish lilt of Miss Steven’s voice breaks the stillness of the morning air. His cock twitches as she speaks. He groans as he looks up at the cuffs from which he is suspended. “You are a pretty boy,” Miss Stevens continues as she slides. More

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