He approached Amanda, but would not raise his eyes to meet hers.Amanda observed him as he locked the chain to her collar, looking for some clue as to what else was happening, anything to break Norlan's mantra. She thought his inability to look her in the eye was a telling sign of something.Nothing special.No, Marris did think Amanda was special. Otherwise why did he grill her for information the other day?Stop it, she chided herself as Marris gave the chain a gentle tug. Stop reading something into it that's not there.Her speculation over her status was suited for times when it amounted to nothing more than a mental exercise. It helped her cope with the day-to-day monotony of being a living sex toy. But she had to stop when it could be tested by reality. The disappointment could send her into another spiral of depression.Yet as she fell into step behind Marris, she could not quench that faint spark of anticipation.All the man-servants had each claimed a slave, and they moved with. We don't want to keep the ladieswaiting at the salon, do we?" She smiled at the feminized man who wasonce her male husband. "Just remember when they strap you into the chairto say thank you."---Yvette looked distressed. It wasn't just the carpet on his aching knees,or the fact that he had received three sound whippings and already itwasn't yet lunch time. It wasn't even the fact that he was wearing shoeslike Yvonne used to wear: five inch heels that had been locked on hisankles for three days now.Yvette was still burning from the humiliation of watching his wife beingfucked by a man over the desk earlier, when Joe Lugacci called in fromthe upstairs office for a meeting and finished up fucking Yvonne overher desk; holding her down, hoisting her skirt and spreading her legsbefore ramming his cock deep into her wet snatch. Yvette had kneltwatching, helpless and impotent, as the man pounded his wife and heardher mewing like some animal in heat. And just to round off hishumiliation he.
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