90-DAYS WET
But as he rolled them up my bruised legs, pinning them to a garter belt he’d buckled around my hips, I felt a surge of that dark, addictive shame.
"There," Ken whispered, his thumb tracing the line where the stocking met my skin. "A perfect little house-slut. Now, since you’re so thirsty, Jamie, why don't you show Brian and me how well you can serve?"
They sat me on the kitchen floor, my back against the cabinets, and for the next hour, I wasn't allowed to use my hands.
I had to satisfy Brian and Ken while Kade ate breakfast just feet away, the sound of his fork hitting the plate punctuating my muffled gags. The degradation was absolute…being treated like a living appliance while the man who
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