So maybe puppies are a little less sophisticated and independent, but it seems like a pretty fair trade-off, all things considered.
bows
“Sweetheart, where are your manners? Say please."
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A clever way to combine the imperative of ease of inspection with the little brat’s desire for pretty pink panties.
All we need now is a built-in moisture sensor over the cunt and a remote-controlled e-stim device for punishment over the clit and she could almost be permitted out in public.
Hiding forever.
Real things said to yours truly:
“I know you feel like a rapper right now, but they’re just cookies.”
The amount of pride I take in my baking abilities would make Betty Friedan cry.
What I could’ve done in the past two hours: Written a good chunk of a paper.
What I did instead: Looked at pretty bras and panties on the Internet. And maybe made a purchase or two.
Pink usually washes me out, but I don’t care. I want all of this.
It was because he claimed bows brought out her innocence. Which he swore, promised, was buried beneath her incessant brattiness.
“What do these bring out, Daddy?” she asked.
He looked over her shoulder, shook his head at the holes, and reached down. “My cock. Now open your mouth.”
By pure coincidence, my tumblr girlfriend, Dacry, and I experienced the same sexual first the other night. We spent some time discussing the finer details of it, giggling over its drawbacks, and appreciating the fact that, without consulting each other, we’d both happened upon the same thing.
Aw, sweetie, I know you’re uncomfortable. But it’s making Master and I so happy. And that’s really all that counts when you think about it, hm?
(In other news, I am so hunting down that dress or sewing myself a version of it.)