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15 May 2021My head was a fuzzy-wuzzy, spinning blur of supernova rockets and explosions all weekend and even though I’ve tried really, really hard I can’t remember anything that happened once Candy’s dandy and Candy’s Mumsy’s ‘it’s a surprise’ strap-on dildo started rubbing their heads together inside my twin holes of pleasure-giving. Later, when Mumsy came round to take me home, I was a crumpled, broken ballerina slumped upon the floor and even though she said she’d best get me home to bed because tomorrow was my first day as a working girl for Queeny Bitch, she couldn’t really leave without saying hello to Candy’s dandy and inspecting the ‘it’s a surprise’ strap-on dildo with her slippery snatch of sexiness. So it was nearly midnight by the time we got home. The first thing I learned as a working girl was that if handsies are grope-ey and fondle-ey when you’re walking to school in your diamanté slave collar and ‘drag me down an alley and give me a good hard shafting’ Louboutins, isveçbahis they are a zillion, kerfillion times more grope-ey and fondle-ey when you’re wearing the same things whilst being squished together on public transport.Now I’m a perky, pokie, bouncy, jiggly, squirmy, teen-angel of promiscuity who understands that groping is a compliment, and who doesn’t like a compliment? I enjoyed so many compliments on that journey; titty fondles, buttock squeezes, nipple tweaks, fingers thrust into my moaning drooling mouth as other fingers skewered my sodden-cuntedness, lips closed about my pokie nublets of sensitivity, suckling and sucking and slathering over their proud presentation, todgers and cunnies pressed onto my grasping fingers as wondrous man-muscles rubbed their way between the valley of my wiggly, wriggly buttocks and spurted their yummy cock froth all over my back. I received so many compliments that I missed my stop, so I was a rather flustered, cum splattered, isveçbahis giriş sodden-cunted, teen-angel, working girly when I finally made it to the office. The first thing that happens when you get to work is Queeny Bitch inspects you. You stand with your hands on your head as she walks around and around, fondling and groping and tutting and sighing and sliding stiff fingers into your showerhead cunny and wiggling your princess plug and then standing before you and placing cunty-juice drippy fingers on your lips. But you’re not to lick or suckle them; you’re to shush even when she asks whether you’ve been organisming, and then you just have to shake your head which is when she tells you that you’re a ‘good girly’ and you may cum. Organisms on organisms on organisms. Sparking, exploding, vibrating, pulsing, without beginning and without end. All those organisms that have been hiding away deep within the whimpering wetness of my cunty pleasure-centre cavorting isveçbahis yeni giriş and thrumming and gushing from between my trembling thighs to splash like a hailstorm between my shoes of sluttiness. Oh my fucking God, I was just a helpless, quivery, mindless, obedient, perky, pokie, teen-angel of compliance. And then Queeny Bitch told me I was a ‘good girly’ and the organisms went twat-tit crazy and I collapsed on the floor. Well, I thought Queeny Bitch would be angry, but she told me again that I was a ‘good girly’ and the bestest teen-angel condiment adult ever and that the organisms were to stop now because I had to do my pavlova training. So they did. Pavlova training is the scrummiest, yummiest sort of training you could think of and much funsier than boring olden-days pre-pubescent educating. Queeny Bitch has a bag of meringue bites and each one is a supery-doopery delicious flavour like cunty caramel or todger toffee or anal appletise or lactating lemon or cummy kisses and every time you’re a ‘good girly’ you’re allowed to crawl over to her moaning minge so you can lap and lap and lap until your tongue finds your pavlova treat. And just like when I was administering and polish dancing, I aced it.