He yanks my hair painfully back toward him, forcing my face aloft again."Look at the camera"Camera? My eyes roll to his laptop, the little green recor... light is on, the image of myself bent over his desk helpless. My own wide-open slant-eyes struggle to stare down over my nose back at me, my back arched exquisitely by his hair-pull, my pretty tits dangle lewdly -- my rock-hard nipples just scraping the green felt of his blotter. I stare at myself, bent over and waiting for my master's cock like. I don't know exactly how he did it, but there I was, a few days later, in the upstairs bedroom of Greg's best friend's house, where one of those interesting parties was being held. Greg helped me out of my clothes and I put on a lei and a flower. It was real, but it looked waxy and fake, all the same. I walked downstairs with Greg, and saw her. The girl he was talking about. I thought that someone willing to do this kind of thing might not be such a looker, but I was wrong. Christie was a. More

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