Emma suggested an old Italian joint she claimed had the best Manicotti in town. Throughout the meal, Robert found himself totally mesmerized by this woman. He didn’t know if it was wine he was drinking, going to his head, or if she was really something special. She posessed a dark sensuality and there was something almost enigmatic about her. After the meal they decided to go to Emma’s apartment. Emma claimed she didn’t have a car so Robert gave her a lift. When they arrived, Robert noticed she had a half address, 32 1/2 Carver Ave, a small apartment in the side of an old commercial building. Entering her Apartment, Emma went over to the corner, threw some jazz on and then went to the wet bar making Robert another bourbon and herself a glass of red wine. Returning, she half stumbled into Robert’s arms and giggled saying, ‘I’m sorry, I think this wine getting to me!’ She paused for a moment and Robert gazed into her eyes. He then stole a long and passionate kiss. Emma pulled her head. I was learning what foot-fetishists have known forever.Every now and then he would reach down and flick one of the clothes-pins on my tits.“Enough!” he shouted suddenly, jumping up and pushing me onto the floor onto my back. “We have work to do before Ricker, your master returns! Where’s your bottle?”i was confused for a moment, and then realized Cock Master had probably told him everything about me and my duties. I retrieved the baby bottle from the refrigerator. It was half-full.“What’s in this?” he demanded.“My piss, Sir,” I replied.“Drink it shithead…hurry up…toss it down.”I unscrewed the nipple head on the bottle and drank the rest of the refrigerated piss.He pulled the empty bottle from my hand.A fast order: “Get on your knees, open my zipper and pull out my cock, then aim it into the bottle slut-face.”Everything was happening so fast…I still didn’t know how to address this man, and here I was holding his cock so he could piss! The zipper went down without difficulty, but he.
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