Okay, follow me.”I watched her start to walk past me. I turned around and saw what I thought was a closet, was, in fact, a walk in BDSM room. She ha... what I found out later to be called the St. Andrews cross. By the collar, she pulled me to my feet and pushed me against the wooden frame. She buckled my hands and legs and stood back to look at me. “Beautiful, try and move. You can’t really, can you? Nice. Well, I think that in order to initiate you into my world, I will have to show you what. I have not seen it enough . . . Let me kiss it once more . . . What firm, smooth, white flesh is here! . . . How delicately shaped! . . . Then this delicious down! Oh! let me view the small, dear, tender cleft! . . . This is too much, I cannot bear it! . . . I must . . . I must . . ." Here she took my hand and carried it to her own cavity and guided my hand to easily received it. What a difference in the state of the same thing, a spreading thicket of bushy curls marking the full-grown,. More

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