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That night Lydia had cast her eyes on the single most luxurious necessity in her wardrobe: a high bed covered by a large canopy containing its own curtains for warmth and privacy. The elaborate pergola was supported by four heavily hewn posters of oak. Each polished pillar soared upwards from a carved lion’s paw encompassing a turned ball on ball shape sweeping tapered above to its top post carved flame finial. Lydia’s bed commanded the room. She would be intimately involved with its structure soon. Unbeknownst to her that involvement would be performed under the unrelenting eyes of her handmaiden. Annalette had been performing the errands of wood and water that evening. Lydia, on her knees at her devotional, reached as she had so many times before to the small wooden case on the floor beside, opened the lid and removed a vial and silver thimble. Removing its cork she carefully poured its liquid to full, replaced the vial in its box and brought the liquid to her lips tasting its. And let you fuck me as you please. All my holes, all my body is yours." And just to affirm, she sent me another picture of her twat, spread just as wide as before, with two of her fingers lodged inside.I liked that. She was obedient and forthcoming, offering herself freely and voluntarily without expecting anything in return. "What's your favourite toy?" I asked."My husband's dick," she replied.I laughed. "Ah, okay," I said. "What's he doing now?" He's helping me take pictures," she said. "And he's waiting for instructions." Okay," I answered, seeing how far I could go with her. "Then I want him to film you while you spread your legs and start pissing right where you are now." It was a bit of a risky demand, since not everyone is into that kind of stuff, but I figured the worst that could happen was for them to disconnect and leave me be. And in fact, for a few minutes it seemed as if they'd just left, as I didn't get any reply back.Then she wrote: "I sent it to your email." I.
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