#53572 - She felt her hips rocking, of their own accord; her most natural response! The boy was young, surely no older than the eighteen he had to be to work in the stableblock. It came naturally to him, she had to admit! On their return to Slaveworld, Sir Ross was debriefed extensively by the Prince and by his peers, and even Peaches was asked for her impressions, though in a less formal setting! Squatting in her perilously high heels over a gently vibrating dildo, her wrists cuffed into a spreader bar that held them bent and out, her wrists level with her neck, Peaches’ breasts were covered with whip marks, candle wax, the punctures of little pins and the marks of the Prince’s teeth. She had knelt, naked, humiliatingly bound, in the Prince’s audience chamber, for who knew how long every day.
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