It had fallen open to expose my entire thigh, but I didnt make any move to cover it back up. I watched him, shocked at his actions, but I didnt feel ...heated or violated. I always knew what he was, but I never allowed him to take blood. The idea just always left me a little squeamish. I wouldnt even accept blood tests! But now that the blood was here, out and ready, I didnt know if I still wanted to refuse him. He always promised he wouldnt force me to do it. I felt his tongue flick over the. I knew it would make him happy if I were kneeling by the side of the bed awaiting his first instruction. I slid out of bed and dropped to my knees. I watched as Master slept and wondered wildly what this paragon of virtue could be dreaming? Was he dreaming of me? Could thoughts of varying my punishments, with a few jealously interjected pleasures intwined, be rolling around his beautiful brain? Is he dreaming of scenarios? Perhaps I'm made to lie in a tub of my own urine while he and a number. More

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