"David's not here, Oliver," Brian answered.Oliver frowned. "But I wanna talk to him, Dad. Was he bad? If he's in the basement I'll stay in there with ...im... and..." He's not in the basement," Brian interrupted.Oliver fidgeted with his hands as he diverted his eyes to the old tile covering the kitchen floor where they wandered until he finally focused on his father's thick, black boots. "Where is David?" he asked again, this time sounding, and feeling, much too uncertain."Son," Brian replied.. Made thick. Masculine. I love way it lays flat against his skin and can be hidden under his suits if he chooses to wear it to more prestigious occasions. I have the tools of punishment always within reach. Though I am not dressed for play I am always presented as Mistress, at home. I grab the lipstick. I walk over to my slave and grab his face. ‘Such a pretty slut, aren’t you?’ I make a point to carefully apply the lipstick on his firm, pout. ‘Yes Mistress.’ I nod my approval. I always. More

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