drmephisto

Standing behind my captive angel I put my hands on her shoulders. Her perfume was sweet. The little make up she had on was disheveled, mostly by her tears. "You are trembling my dear, no need for fear," I say to her as I move my hands down her shapely curves. They come to rest on her waist as I try to find the release for the classy knee length skirt. It is a wrap-around type my favorite because of what I am about to do. I find the button and open it. The skirt unravels and my sweet young captive watches helplessly as her beautiful legs are revealed. She squeals through the gag and begins to sob at her red faced humiliation. "Darling, this is forplay just so you know," I say to her putting the skirt aside and admiring the lovelyness that she has, her weeping now loud and driven by rage, fear and profound embarrisment.