But baby, that’s the dress code,” she pouted, “Everybody will be wearing one.”
I shook my head. “No way.”
Her eyes glittered and her voice deepened.
“Do not,” She hissed, “Be the only person who ignores Kate’s instructions. Her ideas about forfeits are… well, much worse than you seem to think this is.”
She pressed the buttplug into my hands. “And anyway, I can help with the lube.”
Her hand crept from my stocking tops, up past my frilly knickers and frothy stiff petticoat which supported the skirt of my French maid dress. As she stroked my corset, a strange blazing desire melted my resistance.
From my Tumblr http://ift.tt/1jZ53NQ
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