Move In With Mistress

Several times when we were
standing at a bar and a stool vacated next to us, she would reach
down, slide one hand under my buttocks and lift me effortlessly
off the floor to place me on the empty stool, much to the amuse-
ment of the others in the bar and to my embarrassment. When I
would plead with her to be a little more discreet, she would
laugh and asked me what I thought I could do about it, and I
could only lapse into helpless silence.
Finally my savings gave out and, when my landlord was
threatening to evict me, I tearfully pleaded with Bonnie to let
me keep enough money to at least pay my bills. Instead, she an-
nounced that I would move in with her and become her housemaid
and personal, live-in playtoy, and that for the privilege of
sharing her quarters and giving her my paycheck every week, I
would be obliged to take care of her home after work. She paid
off the balance of my rent and other bills, sold my few pieces of
furniture and moved me in with her. Although I was initially
concerned that my body could not stand on a daily basis the kind
of treatment to which she had been subjecting me each week, she
obviously had the same concern, for on week nights she contented
herself with lifting, tickling and fondling me, and only occasi-
onally making love to me, but always being careful not to hurt
me. Only on weekends did she give me the full treatment.

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