As she drank, the champagne dribbled down her chin, over her breasts since she was not used to drinking standing with her hands tied above her, and he... nipples swelling around the clamps. She had to admit, however, that this was an unusual captor she had. Was it possible her Master had organized all this? Or was she possibly in danger from an unknown kinky stranger? It was hard to swallow as fast as she was being served, but she just kept drinking until it was gone."Good slut." The words came. Jess was willowy, graceful, with sleek dark hair and big inquisitive eyes. I never thought she was a slut, about the highest praise I had for anyone. When she found me she had a loose top on, jeans, and a little bag over her shoulder. She made me wistful for my lost youth. Jess, the not-a-slut, was who I would have been if I’d grown up healthy. She found me, on the verge of tears in that crappy rural airport, lap still soaking with red wine, found me and hugged me tight. ‘You’re dad called. I. More

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