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How to train your fratboy Ch 8
He was coming along excellently, Sir mused. Way ahead of schedule. She could afford to take her time today, and give the poor thing some honey to go with all that vinegar. "Do you like my shoes Bradley?" she asked, pondering herself in the mirror. Too sore to attempt to raise his head just yet, Brad rested his cheek on the floor and looked over at Sir's shiny black high-heels thoughtfully. His first impulse was to compliment his mistress, but seeing how obviously the shoes clashed...