The Art Of Indian Cleansing

He takes my wrists and cuffs them behind my back. He slips the hasp of a padlock through the staple on the buckle and clicks it shut."Turn around, Fif...y," he says flatly.I see he's holding a leather dog's leash. He clips it to my nose ring. "Are you enjoying this, Fifty?" he says.I blush. The truth is that I am. He knows. I don't have to say. He's holding the leash in one hand, gripping my arm with the other. I can't help comparing his decisive grip with how Joe touches me. Where Joe is tender. He can hear her breathing. He can hear small moans that ride unheeded in each deep breath she takes, and as the clock changes to 04:43 she utters a sudden gasp. Almost loud in the silence of the night, she pulls in a sudden intake of breath.He can see her on the bed, her legs spread wide to the black man’s tongue, her fingers gripping the bed as she strains against the onslaught of him.“Oh” she repeats again, this time louder, “Oh yes!”Lyle’s erection throbs painfully, and he cannot but help. When the delivery men were gone I went to work taking the covers off of everything and walking everything out to the trash. Once I had everything cleaned up I started to move thing around but it wasn't easy by myself so I knocked on our friends door. Let's call him Bob for now, and asked him to come out and help me just for a bit. Now I was in shorts with no panties a loose top with a bra as you can see from my photos I have large breasts. Bob came out in a pair of shorts and that was all he. " Good!" she said. "As always, you will consciously remember nothing about this save for your instructions. Your fantasies, though, will remain buried for the time being. Rest well, and remember, peach is your color."Christopher awoke that day, refreshed, and still wearing the panties he had donned the day before. He showered, shaved, and brushed his teeth, thinking about the day ahead. As he dried himself, he considered his dilemma.If he had to wear women's underwear, why shouldn't he wear.
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