It seems so unassuming, so random.Master could have pulled up right along side of it. He could have made it easier for me. But I am meant to entertain...him. To instead allow him to take joy out of my walk of exhibitionist shame. Fifteen yards of my tits swaying freely, of my black hair flowing in the wind, of my ass in full view, and my dutiful trimmed pubic mound.Despite the scalding hot asphalt, my mind ignores my feet, instead pushing on, carrying me ever closer to my goal.Women are hissing,. “So, you would rather be spanked and poked like a slave than go live with Grandma?” I asked.“Pretty much, Sir,” Buttercup said. She didn’t speak with the same formal style of speech like her mother did. She was still talking to me in her usual tone of voice, except now calling me Sir and not being quite as sarcastic. “I might actually learn to stop being a cunt this way. I don’t think I’ll ever be a proper little lady, but if I lose the bet, I’ll do my best to try,” she said.I found it hard to. More

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