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But it was better not to ask. I figured when she was ready, she'd tell me."I really missed you Jenny, and worried about what happened."There was an uncomfortable feeling in the air, like I was getting too close to what was going on with her. Her face was telling me. And one and one were beginning to make two.I struggled to get the words out. "I'm afraid of Tom... and for you." Hey, come on now, it's going to be O.K." She dodged the issue gracefully, putting me back in the spotlight. "He really hurt you didn't he?" Her arms reached out again and held me. It was so soothing and gentle the way Jennifer stroked my face and whispered how it was going to be all right. So loving, so understanding, but there was something wrong. I just couldn't put my finger on it.Just then I remembered, jumping up to look at my watch. "Oh, no Jenny! We're going to be late for orientation, it's five after two already!"Jenny chuckled, grabbing at my shirt as I tried to get up. "Relax Sarah, no one ever goes. "Well son, it's about seven thirty." He said with a friendly smile.Gulping hard, I managed to ask, "Uh, sir, I hate to impose further, butdo you notice anything out of the ordinary about me? Does anythingstrike you as odd?"Thoughtfully looking me over from head to toe, he finally respondedwith "Hmmmm, No sir. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary."Confused beyond belief I blurted out, "Nothing! Are you sure!"Still smiling he answered right back. "No, not a thing. Though I'm surethe Missus would have a problem with how short your skirt is. Ofcourse, if I had a pair of chopsticks like those I would show 'em offtoo!" He whistled as he finished. Gasping in a blind panic I said, "You mean you can see them?!?! Youknow what's happened to me!!!??!!??"With this I walked forward, heeled boots clicking as I closed thedistance between us. Grabbing the lapels of his coat to emphasize myquestions.A little taken aback by my hysterics he spoke quickly "Well sure son,anybody can see that you've got.
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“Whose is this, slave?” “It is yours, Master.” The slaps were slow and deliberate. I fought to keep my voice steady. “Let me see the other one.” I pressed it toward his body and he gave it the same treatment. The tits had a pink glow now. Master told me to stand up. Master washed my tummy and pussy and asshole. He had me step out of the tub and he toweled me off and told me to go into the bedroom and stand in the corner with my hands on my head, fingers interlocked, with my elbows out. I did as I was told. As I stood, I felt the back of my thighs, raw from the sting the riding crop had given me. The pain in my ass cheeks was deeper, in the muscle, seemingly. Master walked up to me and ran his hands down my shoulders and back, massaging my muscles. He ran them down my front and grabbed my tits and squeezed them tight. I felt a spark in my clit and fought the urge to close my legs. Master tapped on my arm. “Turn around,” he said. He ran his hand down my tummy and clasped my mound. He.

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