I wanted to beg Annette to let me go, promise her payment…anything if she would just let me go, but I knew she would refuse. I tried to keep my cool...as the two girls escorted me, on shaky legs, to the wedge in the middle of the room. Mistress walked over and grabbed my hair, “Bend over and show me your ass.” Without hesitation I did as instructed and instantly felt a sharp pain in the left cheek of my ass, “That shot will do a number of things, first it will relax you a bit, not so much that. Our chats on Skype started again. His request and demands were difficult for me. We diverged particularly on the question of women – I didn’t want another woman near me. Ever. He wanted it. And then, I committed the big offense. The one I shouldn’t ever have committed. I run away from him. He was mad at me. I thought I had lost him and was grieving. He contacted me again. Everything in me was screaming for him when I saw his message. He took me in again, but the condition was hard, unbearable. You both get those off and you’re left with your underwear. He picks you up and pins you against the wall of wine. Some bottles clink together as he kisses your neck, chest, and his hands explore your skin. You can feel his hard cock pressing into your panties and you reach down there to stroke it but he stops your hand.“Ladies first” he whispers in a husky voice. His lips suction to your neck and makes you gasp from pleasure.He sets you down and he drops to his knees. He slides your panties. Low-ceilinged, hung with silks and lanterns, a pall of smoke was shifting lazily around, propelled by massive slow-moving ceiling fans. And the room was packed. There were no tables or chairs. Everyone was standing, or sitting in little groups on brightly-coloured rugs. All along the right-hand wall stretched a bar counter, where the crowds were five or six deep, and a dozen or so red-jacketed waiters rushed around with trays of drinks.Inside the room, the chatter was almost deafening. The vast.
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