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Mel nodded and slid behind the bar. Soon, she had a steady flow of customers. She had no trouble keeping up. James had taught her well. Eventually, she got into a rhythm, working on muscle memory alone, allowing her thoughts to wander.
“That’s right. You belong to me now. And I don’t like to share. Which means no one but me is allowed to touch you. Not even yourself. The only release that you’re going to get is at my hands. Do you understand?”
Before this moment, Mel had never understood the appeal of strap-ons. But seeing Vanessa kneeling above her, the ebony cock contrasting against Vanessa’s milky white skin, made Mel throb between her thighs.
Mel opened the box gingerly. Inside was a thin silver choker. It had a round ring hanging from the front of it, nestled between two small sapphires. It was subtle enough that it appeared to be nothing more than a fashionable necklace. But Mel knew what it was. A collar.
Mel slid a probing hand down between Vanessa’s legs. Her fingers slipped easily into Vanessa’s silky, wet folds.
Slowly, Mel parted Vanessa’s lips with her tongue and ran it up and down her folds. Vanessa’s hands fell down to the back of Mel’s head, holding her in place. Mel licked and stroked and flicked away, drunk on Vanessa’s taste. Vanessa rocked her hips against Mel’s mouth, taking charge of her own pleasure. Muted cries sprung from her lips.