The submissive expected it—I could tell. Cynthia just pointed to a horse—one of those orange and white ones they use on roads. Skinny as hell.Like...before, everyone rushed to set up the scene. The rope work was rather artful. They suspended her upside down, with her hair brushing the floor. The ankles and hands were tied to the uprights so that all her weight was born by the midriff, but her legs, thighs and pussy were fully exposed. Mistress Cynthia had nothing to do with that. First she worked. Rotating to her side, Daisy let out a puff of frustration. She hated this one too. ‘Momma, this one isn’t it. I don’t feel it,’ she said. Nodding her head, Donna Jones agreed with her daughter. ‘It takes away from your figure the way it cinches in at the hips.’ Placing her hands where she was referring to, ‘See here? Just won’t do.’ Shaking her head, Donna turned to the other person in the room besides the dress consultant, ‘What do you think, Grace?’ Standing up, Grace moved over to stand by. More

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