Why would I want to stop wanting You? Why would I not want to know the sound that You make when I pull Your hair just a little too hard? Or when I thr...st a little too deep into Your throat? Or when I strike My palm against the softness of Your ass cheek? Why would I want to stop that? We've only just begun. I know that You want Me to use You Princess; I know that You want to be taken; I know that You want to be My very own compliant little Fucktoy. In My mind You already are. My very own dirty. My heart was thumping loudly as I tapped three times. The door opened immediately, and George appeared, drink in hand, wearing a white robe. He stepped aside, and I walked in. He closed his door quickly, and I felt safe, in a way. I couldn’t yet sense what George’s reaction would be to my letter. “So, it’s you,” he said, frowning with disappointment. “Are you surprised?” I asked. “I thought you liked women,” he responded curtly. “I do like women,” I answered. “Do you eat their pussies?” he. More

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