“Slave…” she paused. If I were of a suspicious nature I might have suspected my Japanese employers were doing this deliberately, following some sort of protocol to turn me into a sex toy for their pleasure and benefit. “I am sorry, Fumiko-san,” I whispered immediately and I sank back onto my bed, keeping my eyes tightly shut. Thank you, Fumiko-san.” I bowed to her, very much wanting her to know that I was learning. I don’t know.”
“You call her Mistress though?” I was trying to understand. I stood there, bound helplessly, gagged, and uncertain of what was going to happen. They were hardly imaginative, merely rude and I was grateful that Mistress Atsumi ignored one of them when he tried to ask her about me. I felt like a porn star or something and the thought reminded me that all of this was being filmed, but I couldn’t do anything about it. You’re hole is very small anyway, so perhaps not even that.
