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Wouldn’t you love to kiss these full red lips,” said Wanda, licking his cheek and tasting a mix of cologne and moisturiser. The Captive shakes his head obediently, fear and excitement coalescing to create a curiously glazed expression.“Kisses, bitch,” said Wanda, dripping candle wax onto his chest. She grabbed his cock. “Aw, little man is hard,” said Wanda, gently masturbating his cock. The Captive looked dreamy eyed, at least until Wanda stretched his cock and trickled wax droplets on it. Eyes popping out of his head, the Captive gave an animalistic grunt. Wanda blew the candle out.“Now where should I put this?” said Wanda, smearing wax on the Captive’s face. She jammed the candle halfway up his ass which made the Captive piss a bit; Madame Wanda took a burst on her smooth milky thighs. Recoiling, Madame Wanda spat in his face and uttered, “Scum.”The saliva dripped from his eyebrows“You’d love to lick that up wouldn’t you, sewer cunt.”Madame Wanda picked up the bullwhip and. "Faye! Wait!" Over her shoulder, she called back, "I mean it. Keep away." "Why? I don't understand." "You're better off not knowing." I caught up and grappled her hand, spinning her to face me. "Faye, please." She was shaking and twisted herself free. "No. I've survived this long. I'm not going back." "Back where?" I asked. She shook her head resolutely, but I'm renowned for my persistence. "Come on. Please. Sit with me and forget I said anything about your…" I waved my hand. "It's Christmas and I enjoy your company. Please?" After a little more cajoling we settled in the bar area on plush crimson armchairs. Just us and the barman, who could have been Jason Statham's stunt double. Soft Chopin wove delicately between the conversation peaks and valleys as I re-earned her trust while more Champagne, expensed on the corporate tab, scuffed the edges of her demeanour enough that I brought up her appearance again. "So can anyone see your glow?" "I thought I said..." "I know, I know. Indulge.
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You have to get cleaned up. What did you do? Spill the whole bottle on yourself?" That was unfair, it was only one drink, hardly the whole bottle. "Go on, get out of those clothes and take a shower. Geez, those are your good khakis aren't they? I need to wash them tonight so you can wear them in the morning. Next time, get drunk in your jeans, okay?"Feeling lucky I'd gotten off so easily, I staggered in a near-somulent haze to the bathroom. I took off my shirt and khakis, but then got distracted. It was the mirror that caught my attention. I'd never been the he-man type, but the last several months I'd been working out in the hopes that would be to my benefit in impressing the girls. I'd gotten into the narcissistic habit of admiring my developing biceps and pecs whenever a mirror reflected their image to me. I was posing, half dozing, and liking what I saw. I lost track of time looking at my own body clad only in my underwear, until I heard the near simultaneous knock, turning of.

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