" Why?"Instead of answering my question, she asked one. "Was her name Melody, like you said?" Yes." A blonde, brunette, what?" Brunette. Would you lik... a full description?" She wanted to picture the woman in her mind's eye. I understood her need."Please." About thirty years old. Five four or five. Brown eyes. Short dark hair. Petite. Small breasts with tiny nipples, like pencil erasers. A little thick in the waist. A great ass, but her thighs were a touch thick like her waist. Pretty feet and. She makes her way to the dresser with difficulty, moving clumsily only on her knees, moving slowly without her hands to aide her while they're still bound to the base of her spine. She careens from knee-cap to knee-cap in an awkward movement I'm sure she finds intently humiliating.She retrieves it and makes her way back to me slowly, its tassels falling across her tits as she wiggles towards me. She finds the position before me, on her knees, my organ a blur as she faces it so close. Again she. More

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