There was a feeling of tightness in her chest she couldn’t explain, ‘Why did you bring me up here and show me this?’ Marion wasn’t put off, �...You’re not blind. You know why.’ Sorrel stood up, ‘We better go downstairs now.’ Marion closed the album and put it back in the chest at the foot of her bed, ‘Sure.’ As they started out of the room Marion touched Sorrel’s shoulder, ‘Can I ask you one question?’ Sorrel answered, ‘OK.’ Marion rephrased her question, ‘Actually I have two questions.’ Sorrel. A soft malleable pain slut, always ready for mistreatment, always on the brink of pain, always able to travel over that brink for her barbaric mistress. Then would come the evening. The approach of her lesbian owner that heralded hours of service, punishment and torment. A dominatrix with no chains or cuffs. They would not be required because Chantel would present cunt and ass without any restraint. The owner would coo over the helpless object of her desire, smother her body in kisses and. More

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