Mind bondage-3

“Careful there, Adele! There are safe scissors, but if you move too much I might get you anyway. Don’t worry, the fur will feel a whole lot better once your skin is totally bare,” she chattered. “Nothing bad is going to happen, Adele! Relax already.”

She was right. Once the fur was touching all of my skin I felt deliciously caressed all over. Pamela strapped down my hips and my shoulders. I felt my legs being spread as she manipulated the table somehow. I felt the lack of the fur on my rear and wondered vaguely what she had done.

“I am here to show you something, Adele,” Pamela said. She was bustling about the room, but with my shoulders restrained I couldn’t life my head to see what she was doing. Then she set up a mirror and I had a view. Another fur covered table filled my field of vision. Pamela laid upon it, naked.

“I was like you Adele. I thought that I wasn’t a slut. I fought the idea of being sexual. I hated talking about masturbation. I never used words like ‘cunt’ and ‘cock’ and ‘fuck.’ I drove myself to insomnia because I thought being a slut was a bad, sinful, evil thing,” Pamela said. As she spoke she caressed herself. I watched her touch her breasts, cupping them and squeezing them lovingly before teasing her nipples. They were as large as I had suspected now that they were freed from her formless hippie clothes. Her body was all curves. She wasn’t fat, but neither was she skinny. A full bodied woman with delicate hands teasing sensation out of every inch of herself. I couldn’t look at anything else. I didn’t want to.