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"I get the pickings of the things that goes in the river. It belongs to me. Even you, pretty lady. You belongs to I fished you up on my hook, and so now I get to take what I want."Jesus!He was determined to kiss her. His tongue was after penetrating her mouth. His lips were coming closer, even as his cock was after penetrating her pussy, but then, he stopped, and he frowned. He stared inquisitively into her eyes, and a benign temerity registered her despair and her feeble exhaustion. He saw her loneliness and he listened and he waited, holding his mouth just inches from hers.Harriet's heart fluttered. What was he doing? Why was he waiting? And then she felt the masculine interest gnawing at his loins and she realised that her very fragility was turning him on.She's misread his expression.His cock was pressing against her belly and his hot breath was blowing at her face.Oh God.It was inevitable, she supposed. He was turned on by her frailty and her fear, and it was giving him a. And then it was very, very quiet-- my chance to adjust to the hot sack. Already my hair was slick with sweat and alarm skittered like a living thing across my skin. Fear filled my mouth with the taste of bile and sawdust. Without my hands, I was completely vulnerable. It did not matter that Master had used the same bondage on my wrists before with blindfold and gag. The small opening for breath was new and frightening. The hot bag blinded me and crinkled ridiculously every time I moved my head. It forcibly brought home that I was owned. My body, my pleasure, even my thoughts were subject to Master's needs and demands. It was the way things were. The way I preferred them. My anxiety receded some as I assumed the familiar posture. I spread my knees wide and arched my back, emphasizing Master's ass and tits. This was what I wanted: to be Master's, to be completely devoted to him. Owned by a man strong enough to impose his will on me so that my own wants melted beneath the compelling.
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