Six times he plunged his finger up my ass, pushing stones in each time. Then he picked up the sand-covered butt plug, and shoved it back into my ass. ...ow, I was itching and feeling bloated, and I had a difficult time “prancing” up the pathway. We finally got to the house, and he made me prance into the living room and sit up on my folded legs. I waited while he went to his desk and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his drawer. He put a wooden chair in front of me and sat down. As he fiddled with. I sit on the floor, with my back to the crops, but I can feel them.I can feel the inevitability of them. Sooner or later now will bethe time and I will learn what they feel like. My thoughts of dread at theprospect I can understand, but my excitement? I rise and move towards them, hands clasped tight behind me as I move mynose close and inspect them. I can smell the leather. They are old, used andcreased, but the leather is not cracked, they have been well cared for, lovinglycared for. Almost. More

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