Sandra nodded, not quite sure what "punished" meant, but she knew when to agree. "Now dear Slut, we have to prepare you." She clapped her hands. "Mis...y, Mina, lets get to work.Sandra felt her dress being pulled over her head, then, someone took her arms. Her wrists were held together, and she felt them being tied. tight. As this happened, something was put round her neck. A collar? It felt heavy at the front. She realized why, as the chain was let go, and fell down in front of her, its cold. I reached home and got fresh. It wasn’t dinner time yet. I sat on the sofa and watching sports. A while later, my mom called out to me to have dinner. We were sat for dinner and she asked me if I bought the brush or not. Shit, I had forgotten about it.She proceeded to tell me to get it the next day. We wrapped up dinner, watched TV for a while, and then decided to hit the sack. I wanted to masturbate as it would help me fall asleep faster but decided not to. The next morning I woke up a little. Her eyes closed, not that he ever got water or shampoo in her face. He loved washing her hair, not just for the pleasure that it clearly gave her but because he loved the feel of her hair sliding through his hand. Making her happy made him happy, content even. He felt her hair fall into his lap, heavy enough now to fall below the water line and come to rest softly against him, soaked by the hot water cascading over it. Pouring half a palm full of shampoo into his big hands, Henry gently scooped. He turns back, watching me as I scoop up my coffee cup again, warding off any further advances. He mirrors me, picking his cup up again and relaxing back into the corner of his end but still, his proximity is enough to warm me even with the space between us.I've watched him and avoided him for weeks at rehearsals, as many of the other women gushed over the power of his baritone and his clear attractiveness. My own attraction deep set in the kindness of his eyes and the crookedness of his smile..
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