“Now, I’d like some coffee please.” “Oh, forgive me, where are my manners. Butterscotch?” “Naturally my good man and please be ...uick about it.” I hurried into the kitchen in a state of growing anticipation. Tamsin was in charge tonight. I had brewed the butterscotch coffee that we both loved and brought it out on a tray with my best Wedgwood china. As I set the tray down on the coffee table, I could tell that she appreciated the trouble that I had gone to. She was English to the. She only gasped for breath for a moment, saying nothing, and neither did I as I sat by her side, waiting patiently. She stared into my eyes. She still looked fearful, but there was something else there, a glint of desire. I had been right; she had wanted this, and she was so glad to have gotten it.We talked it over as she lay, still restrained to what would now be our bed. We came to an agreement: she would be my submissive little whore. We would go away for a while, and while we were abroad,. More

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