I uncorked my canteen and handed it to her. "Sip first," I said, "it's more than water."She sipped and her eyes widened. She drank a bit more, swallow...d and shivered. She handed me back the canteen and nodded her thanks. "Whew," she said. "What is that?" Corn whisky," I said after I downed a mouthful."How far is the next town?" she asked, chewing hard."No idea," I told her. "I'm just heading north, toward Richmond." Are you a soldier?" she asked, licking her fingers and then buttoning her. She tweaked it, and a look of lust briefly washed over her as she saw my reaction. ‘Looks like I’m winning this game, honey child.’ I chose not to reply as she leaned down again, her mouth meeting mine in a savage kiss. Her teeth scraped against my lips, but her saliva healed the tiny cuts before they could even bother me. The heat between her legs rubbed against my thigh. I moaned at the thought of tasting that heat. She suddenly took one of my breasts in her hand and squeezed roughly. I. Even more irritating was that this object’s defiance was not obvious, he didn’t waste his energy in verbal contempt of his torturer. He neither spat in the face of the guards or cursed under his breath. To an inexperienced Master or Mistress he might appear a compliant object, one who knelt without objection, who placed his magnificent arms and legs in position for the shackles, who extended his glorious backside conveniently for the marathon caning sessions, but this one never let go of his. I saw Troy finish lapping at Ginger’s snatch, and then she got up and checked the coffee urn.Ginger, ever the perfect hostess, said, “As we have a brief intermission from the massage shows everyone is welcome to have another cup of coffee. There’s plenty and I can easily make more.” Her comment and its efficacious tone elicited a chuckle from most of the others including me. People did reclaim their coffee mugs from the picnic tables where we’d eaten and got coffee. The impression I got was.
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