The Table

Sir is out of town, so he sent a text to a friend of his.

“Please beat my slut.”

table1 The first time I saw this table, so long ago, I knew I had to be tied to it.
But first I was going to dance for him. table2
table3 I figured out that the hoist track on the ceiling meant I could run the length of the building.
He fixed that. table4
table5 Oh, I danced…and screamed…
… and was well rewarded. table6
table7 The puddles of my juices and drool left dark stains all over the dirty shop floor.
I ‘drew the line’ at thigh marks that would show in shorts, so he drew his own line…“↑Do not mark slut below line↑”

“↑This line right here↑”

table9 … then he grinned evilly and created a garden of daisies before locking the handcuffs back on.
Finally I had earned the privilege to be tied to his table. table10
table11 It was hard, cold, and so dirty.Even better than I’d imagined.
I was one very happy, well used, completely filthy whore. table12

Thank you A.

And thank you Sir.

I look forward to both of you destroying me there together soon.


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