Many hours had passed when Suzi awoke. She lay very still, her eyes still blindfolded, and her mouth dry from lack of water, the exertion of being **...*d, and the satin pillowcase gagging her. She tried to move her arms and legs, and finding them still tied, she began to cry, thinking she was tied down, unable to defend herself, vulnerable to whomever would come along and take his pleasure from her, and no one could rescue her. Nobody knew where she was! Suzi then heard a deep, menacing. Jules would not be pleased that I was bringing another woman home to paint and fuck. But Jules had not been pleased many times before and yet he was still with me. Jules still posed for me; I still fucked Jules. And there was my art. Fucking went with my art.“I’ll take you home and fuck you if you let me paint you,” I answered.“You want to paint me?” Juliet said with a little gasp. I could tell that the idea of this was even more arousing to her than my poetry was.“Yes, in every way,” I. More

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