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I thought that if I left the special lube for Mr. Purple at Sir’s place “by accident,” I’d be able to avoid having to put him in my butt again. I felt pretty clever about that one.

Except that plan just backfired, and now Sir’s sending me to the store to buy some lube where I’ll have to freaking present it to a cashier and uuugh.

Pouting forever.

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“It’s just very invasive,” I had murmured into the pillow, burying my face, trying to hide from the wetness I could feel forming in my cunt. 

These are the things that are hardest to accept, the ones I feel myself enthusiastically liking despite the sheer humiliation of being forced to lie still and endure it.