“Strawberry or vanilla?” Mister asks from the doorway, holding a small carton of ice cream in each hand. “Never vanilla,” coos Anya. The three of us squeeze together on a small plaid sofa...
I arch, buckle, scream, curve, collapse. Jay carefully wipes his hand off on a towel, then lies down next to me. “That’s really the last time, you know,” he says sorrowfully. I rest my head...
“Behave,” he says. “You’re really being a fucking brat.” Tonight we aren’t playing. I’m really resisting him, but I don’t know why. I’m spoiling for a fight and I want to push ...
“I think I just peed a little. Fuck.” Horrified, I start peeling the blankets off the bed. “That wasn’t pee, you just squirted a little, that’s all,” Mister laughs, moving out of my...
“Are you ready… hey, what’s that?” he asks, catching a flash of white and pink. Quickly, I close my robe. “Nothing for you to see right now,” I tease, pushing the door shut. “Let m...
He doesn’t elaborate. It unnerves me to wear even less than the fishnet top and the teensy black skirt I have on. Mister gestures towards the pair of fishnets in my hand. I pass them over, he...
Anya is on my right. We are naked, holding each other. Michael pounds into her, hard. He looks deep into my eyes while he fucks her. Her tits are creamy pale, bigger and rounder than mine. As I f...
https://daisydanger.com/2010/05/17/there-are-three-of-us-crammed-into-michaels-twin-bed/
I’m drifting again and I don’t care. Morphine isn’t this good. “How many left?” Mister asks. The Val-U Pak of one hundred wooden clothespins is nearly empty. I can’t even guess. I bre...