Life goes on.
It was in one of his extended leaves after months away coupled with an injury he’d received while on a tour that he found his new passion for photography and joined the local camera club. By which stage we’d been married over a year and we were about to spend at least six months together. It turned out that his military “Speciality” involved photography in some form and he used to joke “They like you to be able to draw or take a photo of what you may have to shoot” which never made any sense to me what so ever. His weekly trips to the camera club became something for him to enjoy and he comes to the pub I worked in. Full of what he’d seen or what new lens he wanted. Often he'd bring somebody he’d met there. It was one of these guys who suggested I’d make a fine model for their “Model night” which they had once a month and he quickly agreed I’d make a fine model. I wasn’t too keen and pointed out I wasn’t eager to take my clothes off for people I may meet in Marks & Spencer the next day especially as I may not be covered in welts from the trips to Mentor or those he’d put on my body. It was pointless me saying I didn’t want to do it because he’d made up his mind the upside was no beatings, visits to Mentor and some new clothes and I like new clothes, not that we afford any.
I was a bag of nerves the first time I posed in a “Model night” which was stupid because although I was expecting to pose at least in my new matching bra and suspender belt complete with stockings all black I may add. In fact, all I did was sit on a bar stool in my jeans and t-shirt and smile a lot after an hour I was bored stupid. I was thanked at the end and a kind looking old lady gave me some flowers and they all clapped me. I joked on the way to the pub that this was quite different to the first time he’d taken me to meet a gang of old men as the average age must have been the late forties maybe more.
The nice old lady who’d given me the flowers was the mother of one of the club members called Gerald who was himself in his mid to late-forties and lived at home with her and his elderly father also a club member. I was to get to know Gerald well over the years with his old fashioned ways and dress sense even his comb-over hairstyle although he was in his mid to late forties he dressed like a man in his mid the late seventies right down to his knitted waistcoat courtesy of his mother. I often used to see Gerald and his mother shopping in Sainsbury’s, which was one of the reasons I changed my supermarket they were nice but always in a sickly manner.
Gerald was always the one who wanted to push things but never had the courage to ask me directly to do something. After my first "model night" I was invited back the following month which once again I was reluctant to do, after all sitting on a stool for three hours smiling wasn’t my idea of fun at all, flowers or no flowers. After saying how boring I found it the last time when I was told it was "model night" the following week and his response was it won’t be boring next week they have asked for “Swimwear” in the first session and “Glamour” in the second session and I didn’t have to worry as Gerald’s mother would be there with her dressing gown to protect my modesty.
My second "Model Night" was almost as boring as the first and also much colder as it was winter and I had fewer clothes on. I enjoyed the attention though if it was all a little obvious with most of the comments being how nice my bum was. This must have been the reason I spend 80% of the time bent over a stool or a chair. For the second session, I put on my new black underwear for which I’d had to go out in my lunch hour and buy a pair of matching knickers. Once changed “Mum,” said to me “You haven’t worn stockings before have you dear?” to which I had to say I hadn’t and asked how she could tell? “Well you have the suspender straps over the knickers dear that will make it impossible for you to take them off, the knickers that is, but it doesn’t matter this time.” This time, she said this time clearly with hindsight she knew something I didn’t, I could have told her as well that I hardly ever wore knickers anyway.
Before they started the “Glamour” session I was shown various prints of my first "Model Night" the previous month 99% were spoiled by the fact other photographs were in the picture to say nothing of lights and cables. The truth was there were just too many of them which was something Gerald pointed out at the end of the final session which the most daring thing I had to do was unfasten my bra to allow them to take photos of my back as I held it up at the front, all very 1950’s. The following week I was invited to take a look at the results some of which were huge 20x30 B&W prints others 6x4’s straight from the local chemists the most impressive were Gerald’s taken with his expensive 6x6 German camera whatever that was all in “mono” as he called it and hand printed and mounted, which was all meaningless to me but at least his looked better.
One night before the next meeting Gerald with both his mother and father paid a visit to our home to show us both the results of his photographs he’d taken at the last "Model Night" and even I was impressed. I think what impressed me the most was the fact that they were all large and there wasn’t anybody else in them just me. I like the one of me taken in the second session of me showing off the shape of my back which I had never thought of as sexy before I was quite proud of myself as was my husband. He pointed out to Gerald he’d love to be able to take photos as good as that and was offered some tutoring by both Gerald and his father, which was something he was eager to take up. So it was suggested that we have a session with just the four of us those three with cameras and me as the model.
The venue was arranged at the camera club the reasoning being that all the light and props were there already not that I was keen mainly because it was so cold there. As it happens the tutorial never took place as “mum” mentioned it to a couple of other members who wanted to be there and they told a few others soon the entire club wanted to take part and it was shelved. He came home from the weekly meeting telling me that the only conversation all night was that the members were angry that a private "Model Night" had been organised without all members being invited and the main reason was that a “Figure session” was on the cards. I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about and told him so and to be told that a figure session was camera club speak for “nude model night’ and I even blushed.
I didn’t attend the next "Model Night" as they had arranged a previous model to attend and as they had booked her months before I went there. I heard she was a former Page 3 model and who worked freelance and who had appeared in “Men’s Magazines” with her huge 34DD bust. I told him that they’d not miss my merge 34B knockers. Instead of staying at home I worked in the pub that night and after 10 members of the Camera Club started to walk in full of themselves and after half an hour or so their model was escorted in by the club secretary an OAP about seventy. She was covered in thick may-up bleached blond hair short skirt (not fashionable at the time) with her huge boobs on show, she looked as common as muck or so I thought.
I had the chance to talk to her she was in fact quite well spoken and not uneducated as she told me she was training to become a Vet. When I asked her why she did that type of work she just smiled and told me “For the money” adding “nobody is going to remember who the model was that night once the photos have faded along with their hardons and by then I will have my Veterinary Practice and money in the bank from doing what I love. In other words, lay back and think of England so to speak without having to fuck anybody, unless the money is right that is.” I asked if she would fuck somebody if the money was right, “Oh yes dear but not for peanuts you know, not for peanuts is it gets me where I need to be” she told me. Interesting I thought and an interesting way of putting it and when I told him afterward at home he thought it was as well adding “Well good for her.”
Before the next weekly camera club meeting he had to return to Dorset recalled because of some “flap on” somewhere or other. Although I was invited to model at the camera club which I was able to say no to with ease mainly because I found them all so boring. I received a call the following week from his Commanding Officer, telling that my husband had been sent halfway around the world on an urgency assignment and that “The Sergeant” would be away for a few weeks or even months maybe two but he doubted it would be more than three. It was all a bit “hush, hush and “there was no need to worry” which of course was the first thing I did. Later that night I saw on the News at Ten, that a Company of Royal Marines had been dispatched to Papua New Guanine to hunt down some modern-day head hunters and cannibals. I spoke out loud saying I hoped he is OK only to be told by my father “Well if the rest of them are like your husband, it’s the head hunters who you should be worried about Susan.”
I didn’t get any contact from him for eight weeks and when I did it was short and sweet, he loved me and missed me and was proud of me and he was sorry he couldn’t arrange anything for me and he’d send me a letter once he had the time. In fact, I did get a letter from him about ten days later it was one of only a few he ever wrote to me and along with the others I still have it. I knew from the television he was on his way back, not that I officially he’d been anywhere he arrived home six months after he’d left with his three stripes on his arm I was very proud of him. My father was correct he as well as all his mate came back unscathed the “head hunters” all died.
The second week he was home he took his photographs taken in the jungle to the camera club and made a huge impression. I worked that night in the pub and as it was none term time at college I had lots of things planned as I was telling Susan when he came in together with Gerald and his mother. The talk of the pub was about the jungle and our lads doing a good job, he told them he was only a cook which made them all laugh. It was Gerald’s mum who told me that “I believe you doing a figure night for us next week dear, Gerald will so enjoy that.” This was news to me and I bet he will I thought to myself, she must have seen something in my face because she added “Oh it will be limited to just 3-4 people whose who can process their own film and make their own prints, of course, we don’t want you taken to Boots or the chemists do we.” No we bloody don’t do we.
Susan came home with us that night and he fucked the pair of us all night and until the daylight started to get in through our thin curtains. The alarm went off at 5.30 and I ignored it or tried too but Susan sore and tired was mounted as she lay flat too exhausted to do anything but take the fucking with a soft groan. He got off her after coming and pulled back the sheet looking at me he told me “Clean out that hole slag.” Susan laughed and I slid down the bed and she put a pillow under herself and she stuck up her backside into the air and I went down to lick her as I’d done so many times to find he just fucked her in her arse, all the same I sucked and licked her clean and she loved it just as she loved it all the other times, groaning and holding her cheeks open softly telling me how good it felt raising her torso up she told me to lick her cunt and when I did groaned even more.
Later that day after an afternoon stint in the pub I came home to find my sister Alison leaving she didn’t have time she said to chat other than to say “I believe you are going to be doing some more modeling” and with a smile she went. I asked him about it and he just smiled and told me “It’s a pity you didn’t get here half an hour ago because you could have cleaned her arse like you did Susan’s this morning.” From which I gathered she was walking home with my husband cum in her arse yet again but there was no need to worry because with half an hour mine was full of it as well.
Due to the fuss the last time the “figure night” was planned this time it was moved to the studio of a professional photographer who used to be a member and who in fact had taken our wedding photos. On the day Gerald’s mother came to see me which was a bit of shock to help me choose some clothes and bring me a black lace dress which left nothing to the imagination the pattern of the design covered each breast and the pubic area she explained, she’d worn it back when she’d had a figure like mine and it was forty-five years old. Astonishingly it fitted and she was very pleased and so was I it was a nice dress. As this was going to be a “figure night” she told me I wouldn’t need a great deal but black would be better as they would all be shooting in B&W as only Gerald could process colour other than transparencies that is. “I notice you shave dear, that is good I always did when I posed hair is so vulgar isn’t it so naughty postcard don’t you think?” I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about at the time, I think I was more shocked that this seventy-something woman was telling me she used to pose naked and in a sexy black number as well.
On the night she hovered around me like a mother hen and chose when I was to wear in my first session of the three I was to do that evening. I had been asked not to wear tight clothing for three hours before the shoot as they didn’t want knicker or strap lines on my body, which was easy to do as I didn’t wear either anyway but all the same I wore just a loose summer dress all afternoon. I walked out wearing the black lace dress and a little pair of knickers which I’d not worn since the day Hanna’s sister bought them for me when I was 16 years old. They were the very first things I was asked to remove as spoilt the view from the back of the dress which had no design on it and was just sheer and see-through. Although I was should I say very “experienced” by that time I actually blushed when I slid the knickers down and handed to the waiting “Mum” who was stood by with a dressing gown in hand.
I posed this way and that for about half an hour or so wearing the dress and heels made me feel quite sexy as did the attention I was getting from the photographers. It wasn’t until I saw the prints I realised how much of my backside was on view. Or for that matter how much my cunt lips hung down in the gap between my legs. I started the second session in the dress before Gerald asked my husband “Do you think Susan could drop the dress off her shoulder?” which I did. I found it strange as to why Gerald didn’t ask me to do anything he always chose to ask my husband, who didn’t have to repeat the question or ask me as I just did it. The dress came off at the end of the second section and I found myself completely naked in front of half a dozen men with cameras some of whom I actually had seen in the Supermarket.
I started the third session naked and with the word of “Mum” ringing in my ears “keep your legs closed my dear, keep your legs closed” and I did. I started the session wearing more clothes in the form of stocking, suspender belt and 6” heels also hers which I struggled to walk in. I also ended it as I’d started the first bent over a chair but with my legs firmly closed. Afterward in the pub, all the members of the “figure group” complimented on my figure and told me how I should take it up professionally, food for thought I told myself food for thought.
It was a thought that would come back to a few short years later when once again I’d come across Gerald and his mother. The outcome of my “figure session” wasn’t evident for a few months later when the camera club held its annual exhibition this time not in the Towns Liberty but in the Town Hall. My father almost had a stroke because on the wall of the Town Hall in splendid black and white was his eldest daughter as naked as the day she was born but all done in the best possible taste.
The thing about being a forces wife is that you spend a great deal of time on your own which when you are newly married isn’t what you expect or want. After my “exposure” as my father put it at the Town Hall, it was thought best I limit my “figure nights” to my often absent husband. This meant resuming my weekend trips to the farm and Mentor. The old Dom continued to introduce me to various other Masters and Mistresses and each weekend I’d return home covered in fresh bruises and the odd cut where the welt had crossed over. The weekend after the weekend was the same Friday night straight to Stafford change on the train on with the cotton dress, even in winter and back on Sunday afternoon bruised and batted.
One of these weekends he’d arranged something special he informed me when I arrived without saying what that was. I’d learned not to ask questions at a very early stage or for that matter speak without being spoken to and dozens of other things and all very painful lessons they were as well. For the first time for months, I was allowed to sleep in the farmhouse which was something I’d only experience half a dozen times in the twenty-two years I’d visit the place. On Friday I waited on the table for Mentor and two guests both men about his age which were mid-sixties fat, bald, fat and grey I don’t recall. Waiting on the table naked in silence with the odd hand touching me up. At one point I was called to the table by one of the guests with a gesture of his hand and I stood there next to him head bowed hands by my side with my legs well apart. Without speaking he took out his cock and moved his chair slightly sideways and pointed at it. I didn’t have to be told what he wanted and I knelt down on all fours and sucked it.
A recall his pubic hair was almost white and smelt like sweat his trousers smelt of pee, he was soft but not small and soon began to grow, another hand slapped the inside of my thighs and I opened them wider. The three-way conversation changed to me and I sucked cock as they discussed me. The man whose I was sucking gripped my hair and forced himself deeper into my mouth and I gagged as he did so. “She’s the wife and slave of a Pupil of mine,” Mentor told them the one with his cock in my mouth complimented Mentor on his work on me and my oral skills. “Slag has had a lot of experience even whored for a short while and I have put another over 120-130 cocks through her so she should suck cock well” they all laughed. Cow head shiny and freshly shaven brought more food in unlike me she was dressed in her simple cotton dress with small faded flowers printed all over it. “Cow” the other guest called her and she joined me on her knees sucking his cock. After filling my mouth and throat with his cum he pulled me away by my hair and told me to get him some more wine or beer whatever it was he was drinking.
I waited on them later after they had eaten and they talked about me as I stood in a corner of the room facing the walls hand on head feet apart and I’d been taught. “She sucks cock well, I’d have her in heels, heels make the legs look better, you should shave her head she’d look great bald, A simple sackcloth dress would be good” were some suggestions. There were also some questions, “She been bred? Does it do scat? (I had no idea what that was) Is he going to have her marked in any way? Is it available for use? You put her to anything else?” I found the way they talked about me and at me a turn on and I knew I was wet.
The surprise arrived late in the evening in the form of a loud knock on the front door which we all heard even though we were at the other end of the large farmhouse. The now naked Cow went off to answer the door and Mentor went soon after her. I was too scared to turn and look when to door opened mainly because I was fearful of the punishment if I was caught looking and what I would see if I did. I did take note of the introductions although I do forget the two older guest names as it was years ago; I do remember the names of Franklyn and Neil who when I was told to turn around I saw were two of the biggest and blackest men I have ever seen.
I was now nineteen-years-old but growing up in a small Leicestershire town and before a small rural village, I’d never even seen a black person in the flesh before until I was sixteen, simply because there weren’t any to meet. The cousins both in their late thirties I later found and were from Stoke-on-Trent about twenty miles away. Standing well over six feet tall they were Franklyn Franklin and Neil Franklin the later having been named after a famous footballer from some time. Franklyn announced that he had to be at work at 6 am so they better get on with it Neil however; could stay if somebody could give him lift home the next day which was agreed and both of them started to undress.
I had known a lot of men in the two and a half years since I’d first taken cock as men liked to say maybe 200+ by then. None of them had prepared me for these two not only were they black and of course I’d heard the rumours about size but these two where huge. There is a lot of crap talked about cock size and the average man is about 6” and anything bigger than 7” is impressive 8” is big 9” very big but shit these two were huge. As with most massive cocks the amount of blood and blood pressure to get them as hard as the average specimen means that they stay semi-erect, even in this state they were exciting. The porn star John Holmes was reputed to have an 11” cock and he was reported to be the world’s biggest if that was true these two had the second biggest. Cow pulled a mattress into the room and I was flung onto it as Cow sucked the cocks of the two dinner guests who had settled down to enjoy the show. I was trembling but whether it was in fear or anticipation I still don’t know.
I had my legs lifted onto Franklyn’s shoulders and he bent me almost in half pressing my back down on the mattress. I felt his cock against my cunt lips and he rammed and I do mean rammed it into me making me scream out in shock and some amount of pain. The audience, at least the male part all laughed and clapped. The first cock ever to go inside me went up without foreplay with me on my back and it hurt like hell when I was “broken in.” Now after 200+ cocks “through me” the first black cock “up me” had gone up, in the same manner, this time I was wet but all the same, it still hurt me but unlike the first one after a few banging thrusts, I liked this pain at least I imagine I did. It was difficult not to be more verbal from the start the rule of being silent when being fucked (Mentor’s rule) was difficult and then impossible as he almost bends me double with my knees close to my ears as he held my legs pressing down on the back of my thighs.
His sweat dripped off his face and down onto mine as he hammered into me and the dam broke and I screamed into my first orgasm, I’d been on my back less than five minutes. I was oblivious of anything other than the sound of my shrieks I didn’t hear the pronouncements of impending punishment for breaking not only the silence rule but also the rules of not asking to be allowed to “cum” and then doing so without it. I also didn’t hear the comments about, the slag liking her cock or being a noisy bitch although I would be told before the weekend was over these were the reason I was being punished. I was very aware that my first black fuck had pulled out of me and a lot faster than he entered me and made me gasp for breath. Once my legs were off his shoulders I was able to straighten up but before I could let my legs down two hands gripped my ankles and held them far apart. Still fighting for my breath I lay on my back legs wide open and in the air as all five men commented on what a whore I was and how much I liked cock both facts I had to accept as true.
Neil wanted me next but this time on my knees and Mentor barked at me to get onto them which I did with a struggle and with the help of several pairs of hands. He made some comment about how wet and gaping I was as he gripped my hip with one hand and fed his cock into me with the other telling me “Make as much noise you like bitch I like to hear whores scream.” He fed it into me slowly and I groaned as he did and I felt full and I felt him up me as far as he could go his belly up against my buttocks he asked me “That feels nice bitch, you fuckin like my black cock you fucking white whore?” I answered him “Yes Sir” in a low voice, it felt good and I felt full. His fingers slowly ran up and down my back as he slowly moved his cock inside me. As I was able to now I did groan and answered his repeated questions of “you like that bitch?” with “Yes Sir” over and over.
Then without warning, he pulled almost out of me and the pounding began almost taking my breath away, pain shot through me and into my stomach as a nineteen stone muscleman (266 pounds) impaled with a donkey sized cock. Groans changed to screams straight away and he gripped my hips pulling me back to meet his thrusts and pain charged through me and into my stomach. I could hear him talking to me but I didn’t know what he was saying all I could say was “Yes Sir, Yes Sir, Yes Sir” over and over until I heard myself begging for me to “hurt me, Sir,, please hurt me Sir, please hurt me Sir” and within seconds I was having my second orgasm of the night followed quickly by my third and fourth.
Then he stopped as quickly as he’d started and again slowly moved inside me as he’d done before and without coming he pulled out of me telling me to “clean his cock” presenting it in front of my mouth and I sucked him tasting myself as I licked and sucked him. Over on the sofa Cow now naked was being fucked by one of the night’s guests while sucking the other. I wonder what was going through her mind at the time I never found out as she barely ever shared a word with me. Franklyn who also hadn’t cum either moved behind me, I knew it must be him as he slapped my back with his cock. Large fingers opened my cunt and rubbed my clitoris it felt good, no it felt great and it felt even better when his cock was being fed into me and out of this world when he was inside me and hammering it into me. The effect on me was to push myself forward only to have a large black cock rammed into my mouth and down my throat so hard I thought they would both meet in my belly and I began to choke and gag until Neil took his cock out of my mouth allowing me to breathe.
I was now down onto my knees and elbows my arms ached so much and once more I was being very verbal and unable to hold back from coming which I did with a huge scream, something else I’d be punished for later. Pulling out of me he turned me once more onto my back again lifting my legs up but this time holding them firmly under his armpits. Leaning over me sweat again dripping off him he was soon inside me again. As he fucked me he looked down on me ordering me to “Shut the fuck up bitch, open your fucking whore mouth” I was confused at first but he slapped my face and again demanded, “open your fucking mouth, you whore.” This time I did and then he spat straight into it at the same time he pounded into me with his cock. The effect was to make me open my mouth in a shriek of pleasure even wider and he spat into it once more repeating his assault on my cunt with his cock. He spat onto my face and in my mouth banging hard into me each time he did so and I came at least another three times until he shot his cum deep inside me. Climbing off me he told me to keep my legs open so people could see what a whore I was and I was happy to comply and Cow was made to lick his cum out of my open cunt I loved it.
I was given a rest after Cow had cleaned me out although I wasn’t permitted to clean myself and the spittle on my face and hair was allowed to dry leaving me feeling dirty and awkward. The discussion was about me mainly in the form of the four quests two white and two black asking questions about me from Mentor and throwing back insults and comments. Slut, slag, fuck pig, whore and cunt were all among them questions like “Has she been bred? Why don’t you Roger her? She for rent still? Does it take the whip well? Has she been put to a K-9 yet? If she’s not I can help on that.” The last question I didn’t understand nor was I really focusing on the things they asked or the suggestions they made or even the fact Mentor promised to pass on their comments to “Slag’s owner.”
The rest was more for their benefit than mine in the half hour or so they sat made comments and drank copiously of beer even Neil who said he had to leave soon and drive back to Stoke. Franklyn was the first to get up and grabbed me by the hair dragged me away from the corner I was kneeling to face and still on my knees slapped my face hard and making me cry then introduced his cock to my mouth. Even in a placid state, he was huge and as it grew in my mouth it got warmer and heavier and it also went deeper into me. Once he was satisfied he was hard enough he moved me around pushed my face to the floor and lifted my hips up once more my face was on the floor and my holes in the air. Once again I was being spat on this time I soon realised to act as a lube for my arsehole. I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to I was held firmly by a massive black hand and somebody else had placed a foot on my head pinning me down. The cow was instructed to hold my cheeks apart which she did look me straight in the eyes as she did so. As Franklyn spat one more time at my arsehole before forcing his cock inside me. He went inside me with just a small struggle after all this wasn’t my first anal experience and if I could take a hand and wrist up there as big as he was it wasn’t that difficult.
This time it was different in the fact that his verbal accompaniment which I was beginning to find I enjoyed. Maybe I always had but this was the first time I recall enjoying it or if it was before that it wasn’t as intense. His lunges into me were slow and deep as were his comments “You like it don’t you bitch? You want my black cock in your tight white ass don’t you bitch?” my groans didn’t answer his questions and he demanded, “Tell me you love my black cock you white bitch you fucking whore” slapping my arse hard as he fucked me. I did just that “Fuck me, Sir, fuck me, Sir, give me your black cock please fuck me, Sir, fuck me Sir fuck my white arse.” His rhythm established he went deeper and harder into me he demanded I beg and I begged out of the side of my mouth still held down by a foot on my head. I heard Mentor’s voice telling me to ask got permission to cum and I screamed for it only to be told “No” and still I begged as the orgasm inside me built I screamed to be allowed to cum but before I was able to Franklyn shot deep into me and it faded from me in disappointment. Despite the fact that I had always protested my dislike anal sex I was going to be no stranger to cumin when getting it, that made me think.
Next was to be Neil’s wanted his last “ride” before he went and made some comment about the size of my arse hole choosing my cunt which he informed the rest was “dripping” and telling me “Speak up whore I like my cunt loud.” The thing was it was more difficult to keep quiet than to speak up so speak up I did. The more I did the harder he fucked me and the louder I got and as before I was begging to be allowed to cum and this time I was given permission. The combination of me screaming when my orgasm hit me and him exploding inside me, it was loud, to say the least, because he was a vocal as I was. This time I was left in a heap in the same position I collapsed in while they said their goodbyes to Neil one of the two diners was also leaving to take in home and Mentor showed them to the door before returning to turn his attention to me.
At my weekends at Oak Farm, I’d been involved with many group sex/gangbangs call them what you will start with my first visit there. This time I was truly tired and so far I’d only “serviced” two of the men there. I was lucky this time as that just left another two one having left without “riding” me. The other diner guest wanted me “cleaned out” before he had me as he was “never the one for sloppy seconds” and Cow was called into action once more. Tired as I was I complied with what they wanted for another hour or so before they had had enough. I was dispatched to a bed to await Franklyn who came in a little later and “rode” me several times in the night and first thing in the morning before leaving taking the other dinner guest with him.
I was ignored mostly the Saturday with just a visit form a Dom who’d been told I would be here and available. After his visit (not the first time I’d met him) he left and I was placed back in the barn in the pen I knew so well. Saturday evening Mentor and Cow had vanilla guests and I was instructed not to make a noise and left naked chained to the floor, where I remained until “punishment time” Sunday morning. Like the good slave I was I counted the twenty strikes of Mentor’s cane and as always promised to try harder next visit.
On leaving he gave me an envelope inside it where both cousins contact details and a magazine called “Rendezvous” it was a contact mag based in Nottingham. There were also instructions on how to place an advertisement but no orders to do so.
To be continued...