I felt so free, so good, letting go at the end. Now, after we talked, I only regret not letting go at the beginning. I like being a slut.”“Remembe..., who's slut you are.”“I do. I your’s. But…” I paused, squirming in anticipation of his reaction to my next words. Hoping. “But, all those men rode me. Fucked me. Came in me. On me. Maybe you should mark me, show them I’m your’s to ride.”“What do you mean?”With a smile I reached for his pasts. He didn’t stop, so I unzipped his pants and pulled down.. .a part of me loved the way theheels altered my posture, forcing my back to arch and my butt to protrude.I came home from work some five days after this stage of my training hadbegun and noticed the cameras immediately. In every room...kitchen,bathroom, toilet. Tiny webcams covered every possible angle throughout theflat. There could be no hiding any more...every action at every secondcould be scrutinised by Him. Placed on the bed was an envelope addressed tomyself."RebekaAs you will have. More

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