I am trembling with...
What?
Fear? Anticipation? Arousal? My p***y streaming hot juices, I am afire.
He´s barely touched me.
“James, Michael. If you would."
My Masters each take me by a hand, bending me forward over the bench. Arms outstretched to either side of me, my face pressed sideways against the padding, I am shackled to the hoops at either end.
They start to cuff my ankles too, legs spread, but Kris interrupts them. “No need for that. I like to see my subs struggle. I´ll enjoy watching her trying to escape."
He reaches under me, hauling my hips upwards. Shoulders down, ass up, I am displayed and presented. Panting now, in the half-light of this ´dungeon´, a hundred pairs of eyes on me, my world feels surreal, dreamlike.
Am I trancing again?
The crop slides down my spine,
