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I had seen him outside earlier working with the woman who had become my Mistress. (I still did not know her name!) He had obviously been working all day as he was dirty and sweaty and smelly with stubble covering his face. He watched me with obvious amusement as my mistress grabbed my by my hair and forced me to my knees on the floor. For the first time, I noticed that she was holding a leather whip in her hands. As Bob walked over and stood directly in front of me, she moved around behind me and said, "You know what to do, slave boy, so get going! And if you don't do it right, I'll be right here to make sure you do." She let the whip dangle before my eyes. I hesitated and was rewarded with a stroke from her whip across my ass. Tearfully, I reached up and unfastened his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles. An even stronger lash from her whip made me jump, and I reluctantly pulled his shorts down also, revealing an impossibly large cock before my eyes. Never before had I even. Now normally, Andrew detested the human touch, - being something of a germophobe, he figured that someday someone will sneeze and he will catch a fatal disease. But this was totally different. He didn't pull his hand away like he usually would, slathering it afterwards with hand sanitizer. Instead he kept it there, almost holding hands with her save for the salt shaker in her hand. Andrew looked at the girl across the table. She was fairly plain looking, with straight blonde hair that was parted in the center and hung limp and lifeless down her back. She wore no makeup at all and her features were quite ordinary. Elizabeth looked back at the taller Andrew and his somewhat rounded face with a turned up nose and thick, black framed glasses. His dark brown hair was cut in a short boys cut and his clothes were terribly outdated. They sat there holding hands and looking at each other for several awkward moments before they both pulled back shy and retreating. They finished eating their.
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