“You performed well for me,” she cooed. “And the property looks good. You’ve served me and my clients well.”
I did not notice much of the property. And her words disturbed. Such were my clients.
She massaged me, soapy hands palpating everywhere. Quite the skill. And the contrast in her handling of my body was noteworthy having spent most of the day either with spurs tormenting my scrotum or fingers pinching and twisting my n*****s to either extract maximum effort or direct in the desired direction.
And of course, while cleansing, great attention was paid to my trapped p***s and comically compressed ball sac. She tenderly applied a salve, the spurs not breaking the skin but chafing to the point of rawness. Then a soap lubricated finger somehow worked around the rings and small cable tie
