Not long after I finished, Mrs. Cage came back in the room, alonewithout Mr. Cage. Silently she released my cuffed wrists and helped meoff the horse. ... don't think she noticed my wet panties, but I'd knowshe'd see them when I was put back into diapers.She took me back to the nursery and up on the changing table. I feltthe heat of embarrassment - wearing little girl clothes, it was awonder I could still be embarrassed -- when she saw my wet panties."It's not you fault," she said softly. "You're. He could see Jen’s outline in the shower. Buxom, smooth, wet and plump. The fuzz of her pubic hair visible through the wetness of the curtain. She turned to allow him to see her sweet ass, the object of his desire, the inviting gates to his fetish.Saturday afternoon at eight. Eight, evening, dusk, nightfall, sundown and the rising of sexual passion. Jen entered the bedroom. “Just give me a minute or two.”His blood pounding, his prick straining, his head ringing. This was that moment. That. More

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