You flinch as my cold fingers slip under your jeans when I unbutton you, but are otherwise silent. My look apologetic as I am careful not to touch you...again pulling them off. ‘Sit down.’ You do, stepping back to sit on the closed toilet. I follow you, legs straddling, lowering myself over you. I start to reach down, then pause and look questioningly at you. ‘I’ve got it.’ With a rueful grin you reach down to position yourself under me, ready for me. Thigh muscles taut, I move lower to rub. " You like it rough," he said. It was a statement, not a question. "And you're lucky, cos so do I." He fastened a chain to the collar and pulled me after him, back into the large store room. I followed meekly behind him as he led me to one end of the room. Delving into his bag again, he produced a set of leather ankle restraints and bending down he fastened them on me. He then said, "On your knees" and when I obeyed he padlocked the restraints to a couple of heavy rings set in the floor. Had he. More

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