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Dark lacquered fingernails helped me to understand the connection. I remembered that little Ann's marigolds were a natural color. In addition, it seemed to me that the whole pose, the bend of the pyc, the separate movements here are not so free, they are not so intricate, and the pubic hair looked darker. I wanted to ask Claire, if I don’t know the model used this time, and I turned my eyes on it.
The expression on her face has changed: the colors of her cheeks began to grow cold, coldness disappeared, replaced by anxiety. She vdpyg seemed more attractive than usual. She was wearing a black jacket and sharp, long tails. She sat reclining in the chair, like a woman in a photograph, and she stroked a curse between her lap.
Shit, I realized that she gave me a picture of herself. She probably did it with auto-help. The combination in the fold and the absence of the face were thought out in advance: this allowed us to put the photos together, making it impossible to notice a change in tension.
I left the picture lying on a low table and, without looking, looked at Claire. I ventured to come near her ... However, Claire quickly took herself to the pyky. She rose sharply, turned around her axis and again stood in front of me as I had always known her: strong, solid, secure in my beauty.
She didn't say a word. Just looked at me and waited for what I said. I pointed to the table. - And on the last picture is still the same little Ann?
- And who else? - She replied in a dry tone that didn’t have a continuation of promissory notes. CHAPTER SIX: THE EXECUTIVE VICTIM Claire took the picture back into the folder. She seemed dissatisfied with something. I did not know how to turn her back to that short, dumb scene that played out over the image of her body (and the fact that it was she who I was believed). The state in which she came upon the thought that some man had seen her open, excited, in an impure posture, seemed to speak of new opportunities that were not even a hint in her usual ways.
However, when she asked with a derogatory courtesy what my opinion was about her executioner abilities, I again had the opportunity to feel all my inability to follow her, not even talking about nurturing her hope. Little Anne was completely satisfied with her needs in demotion. She was the replacement that Claire offered her another for shipment.
I replied that her executioner abilities did not accept the talent of the photograph, and thus made her a very complimentary compliment.
“Thank you,” she said, accompanying her words with a polyphonic smile and a slight nod.
However, no lightness and carelessness was felt. Claire, who had quickly regained herself after an inexplicable weakness, had already taken up her defensive stance and was ready to rush. I got the impression that she is now just waiting for the opportunity to show her strength or insensitivity. She said;
- And my model, about her, I don’t hear? I preferred to answer only “Little Anne” and ensured that the victim had left the most beautiful of them.
“You met her the other day, isn't it?” - Claire was interested.
- Yes, in Montmarte. But then she was far from being charming.
- Oh, how? ... In what sense?
I thought for a moment trying to figure out how well Claire is aware of our meeting.
- She did not want to talk to me.
- She was with you impolite?
- The fact that this is part of her duties, I did not assume.
I smiled: thought amused me.
“It will come in if I want this,” Clare said. I have already accepted the existing situation myself. There was only one problem left: guess what Clare actually wants. In her case, you could expect everything ...
As for me, at that moment I was driven solely by curiosity.But when on the hail of friends, who called for my slyha painfully and promisingly, Ann came into the room, I noticed that there was also some other fear in me that were afraid.
Clare and I sat down again in two small upholstered chairs turned towards the center of the carpet. A little table, the need for which was no longer, turned out to be set aside. Ann had to get up in front of us, as she had already done more than once: yponiv along the body pyky and poypivshis. She wore a skirt in the fold and pybashka: not wearing a tyfel, she stood now on the floor in one piece. She was summoned in order to clear up the book in the bookshop and immediately punish her if she deserved it.
Of course, it was not about determining the guilt or innocence of a girl, but about finding a reason to make fun of her in our view, so that it looked like a punishment. Claire spoke with fervor, nothing good to her sacrifice.
- Undress! - Claire has shown.
Little Anne learned her role well, since she didn’t need any explanation. She fell down on her knees in front of her hostess, on a wet carpet, and began to shoot one by one for the attendance of her simple bedroom. Obviously, she followed a certain set of ceremonies.
It was warm, so there was not much clothing on it. She started with a skirt: undid the hook at the waist, opened the zipper and pulled off through the head. On this day, she again did not have any tpyikov. A nape of silk silk was edged with a fine rim. She unfastened the buttons on a very short pybashke, but did not remove it at all. Between the pale palami there were visible lips.
After that, she unfastened the garter to first roll one, and after the first - the second man; for this, she in turn raised her knees. She strapped the belt behind her back and put it together with the skirt and the little ones beside her on the carpet.
Finally, she freed herself from the pybashka — the only thing that was left on her — and she lifted her hands, with her hands on the top of her face. So she remained on her knees, stretching out her thighs, with a straight back and in full enjoyment of our views.
Her body was tender and fuzzy. Still hpypkoe, it possessed swells and dimples and made a fascinating impression on me as never before. The skin was very smooth and light, but cast a special whiteness on the abdomen and lips, the tips of which were summed up by pale pink Pymeanas. Although I looked at the girls in the front, I remembered a photograph on which she was represented from the back: fixed to an iron bed in a similar pose, with traces of a scourge on the buttocks.
The memory of the pictures with her intentions gave a waiting posture, in which the victim stood, significance. Claire was clearly ready for any kind of development. However, to this day, she was limited to only a few remarks on the subject of an effeminate, sweet body, perfect shape and charming posture.
She noted the yppygosti grydi and pubic laxity and praised the excellent, tender flesh, depending on its caprice, thin skin, over which she was so tempted to make fun. While she was talking about this, her voice did not become more tender, on the contrary, in her, inasmuch as she described those thoughts, which were to be exposed to the girl, cruelty and fierceness gradually appeared. As for me, when I thought about the fascinating transitions to the language of photography, which I recently wondered, the most fantastic torture was completely natural to me.
In her expressions, Claire was accurate to obscenity, she offended, she described all the most humiliating and intimate. Having risen to the peak of her eagerness, she suddenly stopped ...
After a short silence, she said more delicately:
- Hy-ka get up, chuck! Go and bring a whip!
The girl got up, ... Read more →