I sat her back down onto the armchair, so she was seated right at the edge then layed her back. I removed her shorts altogether then parted her legs ...ust enough for me to get my head between thos slim, firm thighs. She looked at me pleadingly as I lowered my face to her pussy and slowly teased the outsede of her pussy with the lightest, featherlike brush of my tounge. She spasmed imediately as if I had just shoucked her with electricity, her eyes wide open just for a second before she pushed. With dwindling resistance, I performed the duties she asked of me, following her willingly down a road that became more intimate with every passing day. Household chores at first, personal attention later. I'd dress her, brush her hair, help her bathe. It never seemed strange to me, it never seemed wrong.All the while, that simple phrase. An initiation of capitulation: "How may I serve you, Mistress?"And then, one day, a response that gave me pause."Take off my shoes, my feet are aching. I'd. More

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