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Trousers so tight that every crease and fold was clearly visible for all to see. And we saw. We certainly saw.And she knew very well that we saw the very shape of her, apparently, bald quim. The softness of her sex lips. The slit of her most sexual, her most intimate and private place so clearly, so blatantly on view. The camel toe. Every minute, square millimetre of it.The view from behind equally as exciting. Those slacks hugged the curves of her backside so closely. The sway of those hips kicked up a gear when there was a baying crowd. Thongs. Strings? Perhaps nothing? Commando. That’s it. After all, she was the Commander. Herr Kommandant, to those brave enough to voice the cruelest of nicknames and pronounced in whispers more like Her Kummandant. Never in earshot, though I’m sure she knew. She knew everything.Walking through the offices, so close I could smell her perfume, her scent, her musk. So close yet so far, this cold, yet highly sexual woman would always have a put down. Not just because he’s a slave to his testosterone and his mommy complex (yeah, Freud’s bullshit; sue me), but because if he escapes he’s alone in a town a fair distance from home and a hell of a lot of explaining to do. No, even if I push him too far he’s mine so long as he’s sure he’s getting home before his folks miss him. That thought brings a grin to my face.I lie on the bed for a few more minutes, running hands over arms and thighs, pondering my next move. I release the cuffs on Jimmy’s arms and legs, using the quilt fo gently tug him up the bed. The dildo catches on the edge of the mattress, eliciting a grunt as it shifts inside that cute little ass. I quickly roll Jimmy onto his side, relieving the pressure. I take the cat collar that had the bell on it, and fasten it around his neck as loosely as I can. It doesn’t have a d-ring for a lead, obviously, so I just settle for cinching a pair of cuffs to it, giving me the chain joining them as a decent handle. His hands I secure.
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