She told me sit opposite her, and I tried as best I could to match her position and posture. ‘I don’t understand,’ I told her. ‘Of course you...don’t, dear,’ she said simply. I’m sure I detected a note of concerned understanding, as well. That was some consolation. She reached into her purse again and withdrew a very old leather-covered book, about the size of a modern paperback. She found a place, marked by a red ribbon, and spread the book open on her lap. Then, in a soft but firm voice, she. I never could remember who made it, but it was a dream to use. The cylinder held seven bullets and it had a startling device that made it safe to load all seven chambers. The only way to fire the pistol was to grip the handle and pull the trigger; banging hard on the hammer would not make it shoot accidentally. OK, I admit that I was jealous from the moment Oswald let me handle that gun.We rode on a few miles and came to a small town. Oswald insisted that I let him buy me supper (he called it. A Saturday morning.The ringing of the front doorbell, a melodious chime from tubular bells, caught me off guard. It was exceedingly rare for anyone to visit me, aside from FedEx, or UPS, that is. Opening the wide front door, I found Amelia standing and looking at me. She seemed different. It took me a moment to catch on. Amelia was wearing a lemon-yellow dress, white ankle socks and sandals. Her hair was lustrous. Big, beautiful eyes filled with hope stared from behind frameless glasses. She. Just thinking of meeting him has her cunt wet and slippery. She unpacks everything, organizing her BDSM gear so that all is accessible for her Master sadist. She has never shown anyone her entire collection; too embarrassing to even consider. But, her Master issued a command to bring everything to the hotel and lay it out for him. She looks at the small but impressive array of items. "What will he think of me after looking at this stuff?" she wonders. She takes note at the many dildos.
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