The terror I’d felt, the despair ... well, I was back with Dr. Lindsey Conners. The FBI was footing the bill.I hadn’t had any Wexler nightmares, b...t I wasn’t sure that was a good thing. I was concerned that I might be repressing as much as I could. Maybe I needed to ... well, I didn’t know what I needed to do. Maybe therapy would draw that out.Naturally Matt Striker wanted to see me; he must have felt helpless and frustrated and furious and ... probably a lot of other things. But he was wise in. While they talked about some soapstar to take them away in his yacht, Susan dreamt of a mean bastard to drag her into his cellar and keep her as his slave. While she frigged her clit manically she imagined to be whipped and degraded and to be fucked roughly. She started to kneel naked in the corner of her room until she had no strength left every night years before she went to college.Susan enjoyed her meal. She had developed the taste for dog food before she met her online Master. Her enhanced. More

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