But, as I neared the bedroom, I heard that background music that all erotic films have. So now the question was, was Margarita moaning or was it the T...? I've never felt so sinister in my life. Instead of going in the bedroom, I went around to the bathroom that connects to it, and once in there, I peaked inside.My first reaction was absolute shock. There, on my bed, was Margarita, with a t-shirt bunched up above her breasts and NOTHING else on, with MY massager firmly planted on her clitty, in. Upon His arrival home, I would kiss His feet and if He was wearing a coat, I would remove it and hang it up. I would then serve His before dinner drink and massage His shoulders. When dinner was ready, I would announce it and then serve the dinner. While He was eating, I would kneel to Master’s left and await His command. Sometimes He would ignore me. Other times He would stroke my head or face. And on other occasions He would pull my face into His crotch to service Him. Once in awhile He would. More

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