Master conditioned me ruthlessly. He required me to
run the treadmill at the highest speeds, wearing nothing but running shoes,
while he sipped tea and watched my pumped-up breasts bounce. And he forced me
to learn yoga.
I achieved the most difficult yoga positions. I held
them while he and his companions played with the angles my body presented.
I’ve kept up the yoga for Devon. An exotic position is
one of the gifts I can give him.
I kneel. I extend my arms over my head. My shoulders and
spine bend backwards. My hands settle on the soles of my feet. This is the
camel, the ustrasana. The circle I make
leaves my face hanging upside down, my breasts pointed at the ceiling, and my
hips pushed outward.
If these people are slaves
of the Master, this pose might please him. If they aren’t, the pose will answer
their need for everyone to fuck me.
Hands run over my skin. A
mouth claims one of my breasts. A second mouth sucks the other. A finger delves
my cunt. My position limits my field of vision to what is behind and above. I
see Jess standing beside the window. Her attention is divided between me and
the street below.
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