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She whispers, you thirsty, I close my mouth, to signal no. Not that I were not thirsty. It was more the fear. As long as I could manage, I swore I would say no to a drink. Time, difficult to tell. The add had said toy for unusual captivity. Was what I was experiencing. Somehow, she managed to get me outside. I mean, it was not that far, and from inside my cocoon, I can only assume it was outside. And outside, the balcony of her house, was just a few meters away from where she positioned me at first. A hot and sunny day. The cocoon left there, with no shade. Felt like in an oven. Time was difficult to tell. And if not having anything to drink the last day, I got even more thirsty. Laying there sweating, for what felt like for ever. Every now and then, I felt something which must be her toes over my mouth, knowing she must be near by. Her playing, taking my breath away for short instances. Hearing her laugh, knowing she must be enjoying her small games. My hurp and heavy breathing must. Occasionally she broke something, forwhich of course, Gail; was always punished. On one memorable occasionshe had been lying with her ankles tucked behind her neck as she likedto do when Gail had to suck at her wide open cunt and ass hole. As thetongue lapped at her she felt her bladder needed release and she justlet it go! For a moment Gail had been shocked before she had realizedthat Sally was once again learning a new trick to humiliate her. AllGail could do was drink from the fountain that sprang from just belowthat clitoris to stem the tide. Every now and again Sally showed herchildish disapproval of the maid by forcing her to become her unwillinglatrine.Gail reached the kitchen and pulled down a can of the fatty cold fish-flavored dog food. For a brief moment she held it up to the camera toshow Janine, if she was watching, that the maid had picked the correctcan and then Gail opened it and poured the contents into her chippedearthenware bowl.On her hands and knees, at last off.
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There was paintings all over the room, mostly stacked up on the walls, three were on easels, with two of them covered. The third one, held Shadowcat's prey, with the painting facing south and the man in front facing north, he had no clue the of the Shadowcat's presence. The man was very large, at least six foot eight in stature and easily weighing two hundred and fifty pounds. He was naked except for a pair of pajama bottom that were streaked with paint. Indeed the man had paint all over his body as well. The man could be heard mumbling and the Shadowcat recognized that he was cursing in his native Russian, which put a smile to her face. So the painting, some abstract from which she could tell from her vantage point, was not going well. The time to strike was now!Peter Rasputin was disgusted with what he saw in front of himself. Whatever it was, it was not art to him and he was the one that painted. He was about ready to throw white paint over it when he felt a hot, wet tongue lick.

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