I walk over to the bed, but trip over the stool. I thrust out my tied hands in front of you, and a couple of fingers brush against your wet pussy. Sh...t. You gasp and look at me with a look of confusion and slight rage. “Pet. What have we talked about?” “I’m so sorry miss,” I stammer. “I tripped, I wasn’t watching where I was going and I really-…” “Shut. The FUCK. Up.” You yell. I go quiet and look at the sheets. “Oh pet…oh my precious little baby boy. I was going to make you suffer. But you. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she added."Oh really?" I said, curious. Something about the way they had exchanged glances had suggested an intimacy. Was it possible Martha had a gay streak?Martha laughed. "I can see that your imagination is running away with you. Believe me, you don't want to know."I wondered whether she was egging me on. I decided to come right out with it. "You're gay."She laughed out loud, but the way she laughed I quickly revised my thinking. But what had she. More

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