I stroked his cheek and – being curious – gently lifted his eyelids open. Glassy emerald eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing. Nobody was watchin..., so the urge grew until I could restrain myself no longer, and kissed the man on his cold, dry lips. God, how would it have felt to give him a French kiss while he was still alive? But it doesnt matter, hes mine for now. I took a piece of cloth and gently wiped his face, stroking down his neck and across his shoulders and down his arms, enjoying. Don’t know a single thing about his life or have even seen his face, yet I’m here with a duffel bag of rope and toys ready to punish him. He opens the door and, true to instruction, is wearing nothing but his mother’s bra and panties. “Hello master,” he mumbles. “Speak up, slave. If you’re going to talk to me do it forcefully. Lord knows I’m going to punish you forcefully.” He says yes sir and we walk inside. Takes me to his room and I set down the heavy bag with a thud and watch his eyes. More

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