“I was at Marshall Cottage again—the place I loved visiting, where every desire was met, providing it was consensual. I couldn’t think of anything I wouldn’t consent to so long as Master Red was the one administering the pleasure-pain. Thoughts of him ruled my life. I wished he would rule my life. I stood in the room and stared around at the other guests. My orange PVC dress was sticking to me—the heat in here seemed to have been cranked up. The bodies, the amount of people—that’s what was creat...ing it, everyone panting, breathing heavily. I was in one of the voyeur rooms, waiting for my Master. We played a game every week, him arriving after me, going through Marshall Cottage until he found me. He usually saw some pretty raw sights upstairs if the doors were ajar and, of course, sights in the voyeur areas, that got him more than ready to scene with me. Some nights I chose a private room—it depended on my mood—but tonight I wanted to watch. My gold-colored shoes sparkled from the light of the chandelier, covered as they were in sequins.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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