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It wasn't hurried or insistent passion. It was simply an expression of appreciation, love, and the promise of more to come.Bill broke the gentle kiss and sat up. He looked at the mother and daughters. Both daughters were bare from the waist up. Linda still had her t-shirt on, but it was still caught on one nipple so one breast was exposed. His cock twitched again. He had some ideas about how to rectify that little issue.Bill wanted to cum right now but he was pretty sure that at his age the evening's fun and games would be over for him once he did. He didn't want it to end. Bill was fairly certain that Linda would come to her senses in the morning and insist on leaving. The video surveillance he had set up after his last housekeeper would ensure that he could relive tonight for the rest of his life. If Linda threatened to go to the police, Bill could use the video to show her complicity and stop any threats from her. Video wasn't the same as feeling the hard, thirteen year old nipple. The cellar was dank and cavernous, used formerly to house a wine collection it had been transformed into an ersatz torture chamber, with a pillory, a wooden framework to secure head and hands mounted on a steel post drilled into the concrete floor, the centrepiece of the makeshift dungeon. Next to it a robust oak table covered with assorted BDSM paraphernalia including bondage mitts and cuffs, nipple clamps, speculums, floggers, butt plugs, spanking paddles and a strap on dildo. Some of the items were still covered with the shit, piss and blood of their previous victims. The cellar was atmospherically lit by half a dozen candelabras, whose long candles had been assiduously set alight by the Servant. A squat, bulky and powerful man with a shaven head, dressed in a white shirt with a Windsor cut and black tie, blood flecked white gloves, grey waistcoat and black trousers, the Servant had worked up a sweat preparing the Slave for Mistress Wanda and he had rolled his sleeves up his.
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Until her... I preferred to stand on the evening commute home. I liked to look across the train and see what was on the menu. On that particular evening, however, I didn't need to look across the train, because right beneath me was an attractive, young 20-something girl. She looked like perhaps she was a secretary at one of the offices downtown. I checked her out carefully, trying not to look too hard or get caught. At first, I thought I was successful. She had full, long blonde hair cut with cute bangs out in front. She wore a little make-up, but not too much to be noticeable. She had a simple blue t-shirt on over somewhat small breasts... Did she look up and glare at me? I couldn't be sure. But I was being very careful, and her nose seemed to be stuck in a book, so I continued to check her out. The book looked funny - some kind of scribbles I couldn't make out. Then again, I was reading upside down, so maybe it was just the angle. She smirked but didn't look.

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