“I’m sorry, I’m not used to ___ Hi, Master.” She lowered her eyelids, flustered. The crossed leg swung faster. “I like that outfit,” I sai.... “From now on, it will be known as your slave outfit. I may want you to wear other things. But when I say ‘slave outfit,’ I will be referring to what you have on now. Clear?” Her voice was low, trembly. I’d bet anything her pussy was soaked. “Y-yes, Master, it’s clear. You have something for me to wear?” I knew she wanted her question to sound casual, but. ..stop it!....stop it!” She shouted at herself, “What on earth are you thinking?”But the thoughts would not leave her head. She was disgusted, she was angry with herself, but there was still something else, something deep in the core of her being, something that sent butterflies through her tummy, something that created that wetness between her legs.She decided a shower would wash away those feelings, and to a certain extent it did. But there was still apprehension, James would be home the next. More

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