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"I'm happy to try, Bob. How about we get a look at yourbooks and see what's going on?" Right this way," he said, taking my head in a headlock and pul...ing metowards his office. One thing I was sure of: this guy wasn't wastinghis money on deodorant.***"Someone is ripping you off, Bob," I said matter-of-factly."I knew it!" he shouted. "I just knew it! Who? Tell me who!"I looked up slowly from this mess that he called his "books" and smiled."Basically? Everyone."I explained to Bob that it was. I almost dropped the barbell.He caught it. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you” he said. I stammered some jibberish, I am sure, and told him I was just finishing up, anyway.“Good” he said. “Let’s hit the showers”Oh my fucking god. Him? Me? In the showers together? I mentally slapped myself. Hard. Several times.He was smiling at me.“Yeah, it’s time” I said. And we went to the showers. I went to my locker, and, like the last time, he had the one next to me, apparently we were both creatures of. It was the wall of steel, the slave girls called it. And it was a collection of various metal restraints he used regularly on all his snivelling and pleading slave girls.But what Nyasia didn’t expect was the horrible stinging pain suddenly ripping up thru her exposed pussy. Her legs instinctively tried to draw in and close her thighs as she howled into her gag.Her Master then surprised her with another brutal thrash of his favourite stiff, cane like whip. Square up between her legs from behind,. It was dark, and we were inside, sitting in front of a roaring fireplace, no other lights in the room. A bottle of wine was next to us, and we were laughing and talking. The firelight danced in your eyes, and on your lips. Your lips invited me to kiss them, which I did, softly at first, and then stronger, with more passion.As with dreams, things moved at a different pace. The power of dreaming removed all of our clothing with none of the usual fumbling and clumsiness that is involved... just.
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