" Thank you, Mr. Wright," she said."You may call me Michael," I replied. No master? I wondered. Does she already have one?"Do you already have a maste...?" I asked. "You must be truthful." Yes. No. My father made me his slave, but he died when I was 21. He never released me. He allowed me to have all my sexual urges at home, but it wasn't the same after." Can I be your master now?" No, Michael, but I will still be compliant."Intrigued, I had to move on."Mrs. Meyer, what is your first name?". To help brave the neighbors. Of course, my bong is thick, 9 inches long, veiny and black..The weed from the BBC bong hit me right when I enter my laundry room. Hoping against the worst, I expect to see it full. But fucking it, there was only my neighbor, Jack. Older man. Retired. Always smiling like he has a horny secret, or a massive daddy dick. I'm not even sure why I don't like him, or findhim pleasing in that area. A sissy should be humble, but also have her standards. His smile stretched. More

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