’ Which I then did. When the door was open, I turned in the seat, stuck my feet out the door, bent over and used my hands to push up off the door an... the side of the car. (Hey, I’m 64 with 2 arthritic knees.) Once I got my back straightened out and stood up, having seen enough cop shows to know, I turned around and placed my hands on top of the car. She said, ‘If you would, please take the gun out of your pocket and hold it with two fingers and I’ll take it.’ ‘Sounds like a plan’, said I. So I. Of course, I was properly attired for a slave slut out for a run, just expensive cross-trainers worn with fuchsia socks and matching sports bra. Master was extremely concerned about my breasts’ health, hence the bra. It really was an oxymoron because he was the first to abuse my nipples when it suited him. Oh, but he could make me wet. Well of course, I wore the collar and leash of a sub slave, but that went without saying. From my first day of captivity, I’d enjoyed running with Master, it. More

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