The only person working at The Dolly Shoppe was a man who looked like a young Pat Sajak. His nametag said "Bob," and he managed to look busy with mund...ne paperwork when no customers were in evidence. The display models around the store didn't move, but the one time Bob had been in the back long enough for her to dare touching one, it had been suspiciously warm to the touch.Miranda was an investigative journalist who had picked up on a missing-persons' case. Pretty girls were disappearing all. Slithering strokes the length of my thighs brought a tingle to my skin all over while the cool night air caressed my sex. My imaginary Master told me it was time to begin.The vibrating end of my wand pressed lightly against my pussy, held in place by scarlet latex wrapped around my thighs and waist the way I'd seen in the video. A sharp gasp and a grunt of appreciation mixed with the sudden buzz of the toy to fill the silence of my bedroom. With my eyes closed my Master had me helpless with. More

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