Stacey smiled at me, and begun walking around me slowly, surveying her bound prize. I heard her pick something up off the desk behind me, and felt her...breath on the back of my neck. "I hope you appreciate being allowed to sit, slave," she whispered into my ear, kissing it softly, "I could have left you hanging in that bathroom all week..." I do Mistress," I assured, "You've always been so good to me. It's an honour to be your slave Mistress!" Stacey laughed and came round in front of me. I. Isabella was thoroughly screwed that night, and many more nights, by her mistress and her master. They all shared a special bond now. They grew old together and during those years Isabella apprenticed with two artists. A master and a mistress of the arts. And experts at love as well. The two artisans died within days of each other. They had been lovers. But even greater they had always been friends of the soul. And their souls were united in death. When the word was passed to the people in the. More

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