He kept thrusting. “Yes, sir! Fuck me, daddy!”The answer would be evident to anyone watching at the bar.“Oh my god,” the bartender had beamed....“Mr. Mullins.”The customer looked up. His brown eyes were wide. “Pip,” he asked with raised eyebrows.“Yes, sir! It’s me,” mused the waifish server.“You’re the bartender?”“Yes, sir!”“Really? But you’re only…”“You only have to be nineteen here in Idaho,” declared the blue-eyed twink.“Oh okay!”“So what can I get you,” Pip inquired gesturing. You know what to do. Don't think about disobeying.I shivered a little and Gwen took my hand."Don't worry sweetie, it'll be lovely... "And we went up the stairs.In the room, which had a soft, royal purple carpet, there was a paddedbench, a cushion and a wall of toys, whips and restraints. On the benchwere two envelopes. I reached out a hand as did Gwen, our matching rednails contrasted with the expensive, creamy-white of the envelopes. Welooked at each other and Gwen said: "You first..."I opened. More

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