..neither a mannor a woman, I'm me. The sound of my bells tinkle as I continue with mychores.Being put away, mounted to a post in the garage with the ...rooms andmops...a thing, except I desperately longed for my owner to return...tofind another use for me, to be with her....to worship her. Unlike the mopI was cold, unlike the broom my discomfort grew as each minute passed.Unlike the rake, this turned me on. Soft slippery hand, stroking. Please.Brown muscular sweaty ass in my face, the sound of. In fact, it quickly became an object lesson in futility. If he wanted her out of the gown, and never had he longed for anything so much, he would need to take it off himself. She had expected aggression, she expected him to rip it from her. The gentleness of his touch as he spun her around and began to untie and unbutton her was so surprising: there was no hurry to it, no fumbling. She heard the rapier sliding into its sheath and the next his nimble fingers were expertly removing her from her. More

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