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Two nights ago my Master drove me to the edge.
Yes, driven is the only word to describe it.
He didn't "take me there" it was more like a soldier in formation, prisoner moving down the metal gangway or an as animal herded, he drove me.
He told me to stand, head up, and eyes down.
He told me to kneel and wait.
He snapped off pictures.
I burst into giggles. I never giggle at a time like that.
I apologized, and explained, "I'm sorry Master, I must be nervous", but inside I felt the offence was too great to fix with an apology.
With chains strung from nipple to wrist cuff and labia to ankle cuff I was forced to crawl in circles around the living room.
He told me to go.
He told me to stop.
He snapped pictures.
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