One of them was particularly severe and had a chain rather than cord to tighten it. The chain locked to leave me in the corset's fierce embrace. And t...e hobble dress, which allowed me to take only mincing steps. Boots and shoes in all the sexy, bondage styles, some with heels so high I could only take a few steps. Open crotch panties. Bras to maximize my breasts and display them for the world to see. A couple of wild dresses beyond "hot slut" and into the ozone of raunchiness.Twice, Mr. Johnson. .. In a way I craved that. I don't know why. I damned near had you take me there that night." I shrugged and said "Yeah but that worked out for the best." She sighed and said "Still...." I looked at her and said questioningly "Jason and his gang of cutthroats?" She let out an exasperated breath and said "No no not that." I let out a breath. She began again "Instead of them I'm craving something else very bad. I um kinda want something worse in a way. Is it OK?" I was getting exhasperated so I. "I'm sorry sir. Have I been a bad stewardess?" I asked, biting the tip of my finger like a naughty school girl. My other index finger stroked her nipple through her camisole as her hand finally cupped my swollen mound. I was ready to cum when she leaned in and kissed me, her sweet, soft lips gently parting mine. My thighs gripped her wrist as our tongues met and I writhed in orgasm. I couldn't believe I was French kissing another girl -- a girl I'd been dreaming of since college. I sucked her. His muscular, yet sleek, body flowing with such skill and grace. He moved his sword like it belonged to his body, just another appendage that he could wield.If he could see...I charged at his women, at the slumbering Princess Ava. The naked serving girls screeched. The busty one ducked my scimitar blow, rolling away from the unconscious princess, her strawberry-blonde hair spilling over the cobblestone.“Master!” screeched the petite serving girl, her pigtails flying about her face as she dove.
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