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"Hello, sir!" Trixie waved her hands and whispered back."You're so pretty. Would you care to show me what's under that dress?" She nodded shyly and lifted up her dress, showing her hairless, wet pussy. It was already glistening with her oozing goo. After weeks of exposing herself to strange adults online, just the act of booting up the website got her riled up."You're so wet... What a cute slut!" "Thank you, daddy. Would you like to see me fuck myself?" Mr Wright's cock twitched at the proposal. He gripped it firmly and started to stroke. "Yes, baby. Please fuck that little pussy hard for daddy." Trixie grabbed a nearby hairbrush and started to rub the handle against her entrance. Mr Wright had seen her do this before, but he was always detached. Now she was doing it for him, she wanted to please him. The brush entered her, and the schoolgirl moaned loudly as it pushed her insides apart and slid in. She pulled the straps of her dress to display her budding, small boobs and started to. " Very good, Jen. You remember everything now and you will still remember everything when I wake you up. Do you understand?" Yes. I will remember everything when I wake up."I used the three count to wake her up and watched for her reaction. At first she looked confused but then her eyes got big and she looked at me with surprise. She picked up her gown and headed for the door."I need to think about what you have done to me. I need to be alone for a while."I watched her go and wondered what would happen next. Would she scream and cry and make a scene? Would she tell Mom or Dad and get me thrown out of the house or sent to jail. I was scared. I thought about packing a bag so I could make a fast getaway. But there was no place I could go that would be safe. I just had to wait and see what Jen would want to do.I was stretched out on the bed, still naked, waiting and worrying when she came back about an hour later. She looked calm but serious. She walked over to the bed and sat down next.
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I've never eaten there but I know where it is." Good, say about twelve-thirty?" Uh, yes. Twelve-thirty."After she heard the click on the other end Marsha stood holding the phone unbelieving that she had just called a woman about becoming her sexual plaything.Well, she thought, guilt and shame sweeping through her, it won't hurt to hear what she has to say."I'm glad you called," said Tamita reaching across the table to place her hand seductively on Marsha's."I ... I'm not really sure why I'm here," began Marsha, haltingly. "If anyone but you had given me their phone number..." You flatter me," said the sensuous black, "but I suspect you're intrigued at the prospect of money and sex." We'll, I will admit..." Let me explain," said Tamita lowering her voice even though there were no other diners within ear shot. I am one of a select group of people -- very wealthy people I might add, who call ourselves " The Masters." Then Jean and Brad and your husband..." Oh no, my dear. They are.

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