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And from the feral look in his eye, she knew he had every intention of doing it, too, of tying her down and fucking her hard. Spread across her desk, naked and completely at his mercy, Deana could barely believe it when she watched as he grasped her forearm and snapped a cuff over her right wrist. Then lifting both her hands over her head, he quickly slipped the loose cuff around a desk handle and then snapped that one closed around her other wrist, holding her in place, right where he wanted her. And she could see from his evil grin and the wicked glint in his eye as he smoothed his hands slowly down over her naked body, how pleased he looked to have her prisoner again. Her chest heaving, poor pussy nearly dripping for him, she’d never experienced anything as erotic or, god help her, as unnerving. Though she felt she could trust him not to harm her -- at least she hoped -- her skin still prickled with a mixture of desire and trepidation, the whole thing was just so crazy. Especially. After that gang bang where she let me cum, it had given her anidea.From then on, each morning I would be woken up an hour earlier to thefeel of my butt plug vibrating. The following hour, every morning,Danielle would use the plug to bring me to orgasm after orgasm afterorgasm until I was physically worn out, until my cock and prostate couldtake no more and until any and all horniness was drained out of me. Overthe course of the hour the vibrations would get faster and faster as itgot harder for me to come. By the 60-minute mark I was a sweaty wreck,and I would be sent to have a cold shower.This new change meant for the rest of each day, I would struggle to gethorny at all. It was like a full day of post orgasm shame. The horninesscouldn't distract me like it used to, because it wasn't there. Every timeI sucked a cock, or was fucked, or put on my maid uniform, or a sexytight dress and heels for a client, or did my chores, I felt grey andbleak and numb. Everything I did felt like a.
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“Hello?” I said, legs shaking. She looked up at me and vanished. In the empty place where she was, a diary sat on the bed. Grabbing it, I opened the diary to a random page. In feminine handwriting, the diary told of her life. I took it to m y room and began to read of a girl named Emily and her torn heart. She was betrothed to a gentleman named Beau, but she did not love him. She wrote about how she tried to tell him, wanted him to end the relationship. She loved his best friend. She lo ved Colt. There were many steamy passages of their secret meetings. Closer to the end, she told of how Colt’s feeling had changed. Apparently, his guilt was eating him alive. He loved Emily, but he hated hurting his best friend. Emily wrote of the f inal meeting. Colt had told her that he was leaving. She could not have that, so she seduced Colt, knowing that he could not resist her. Arranging to have Beau catch them, she had intended for Beau to challenge Colt, all the while knowing what how exc.

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