Gracelessly he wiped a big hand over the side of her face, touching her velvet skin, feeling the bouncy flesh of her bottom lip under his caress and t...en his lips were on hers again.“Special,” he mouthed very softly, into the air between their faces. “I waited. I wanted it to be magic.”“You almost waited too long. You dick.” Her long fingers curled around the back of his thick neck. “Stupid, hesitant, romantic fool.”Not wanting words, just the rough wood-and-salt rasp of his almost-facial hair. The older woman liked to watch them struggle terrified sometimes for minutes before starting shocking them. It was amazing to her what a simple touch meant for them. And so, days passed, then months, eventually years. Mrs Whitehall was sitting comfortably in her arm chair, reading a novel, while her two decorative slaves were enganging in some sisterly love - a phrase that, however cheesy, she often liked to use. Their exposed asses were marked with a few red lines. They had been disciplined. More

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