There was no sense in getting Fred worked up into "go get her!" mode, even though he was my best friend. I'd come clean with him about what went on on...e I found out; either way we'd end up high-5'ing or fist pounding over it. As professional gunslingers, we'd cultivated the "grown-up frat boys" look.Yes, I said professional gunslingers - but not in the sense you probably took it. We both work at a gun shop together, one which specializes in selling to armchair amateur Special Ranger Recon. As I had read on-line, often Masters wanted to remind their sex slaves that they could always be replaced with a better cunt slut any day and this little ritual evidenced it clearly for all to view. When Master walked me around the room for his congratulatory victory debut, what I had thought was the other Masters patting my head was not what was happening at all. The Masters had each of their slaves crouch over my skull cap and rub their juicy wet cum stained pussies against the top of my. More

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