“Looking up at you with puppy eyes, kneeling before your majestic cock.”“Good girl,” the young man on the other end of the call said in a low,...menacing voice. “You know you need my cock.”“Yes,” Angela whimpered, squeezing her breasts.“How bad?” the man asked.“So badly,” she said, moaning into the phone. “Send it to me, boo-boo.”“Sent,” he said. “What are you doing now? I’m fucking hard as a rock.”“I’m kissing that sweet cock, every inch of it, ‘cause I love it so much,” she said in a desperate. She puts a bowl of oatmeal on the floor just out of his reach — the only food she has ever given him after chaining him up. Then she gets her Whip and stands over the bowl, the toe of her combat boot is just a few centimeters away from it. After several minutes, she nudges it forward with her toe and waits. Edgar waits too. He doesn’t know whether to reach out for the bowl or to wait for her to leave before retrieving it. Sometimes she orders him to retrieve the bowl. Sometimes she doesn’t, she. More

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