1. How Lieke Became Mistress Ginger 2


    Date: 7/30/2017, Categories: BDSM, Author: Bringtherapture, Rating: 1, Source: LushStories

    both fuel and plague me. But it helped me perform well enough at the sport high school in Groningen for me to train and eventually gain a seat in the Dutch women's boat that won silver at the Beijing Olympics. It also help me achieve high honors in economics when I graduated from the University of Utrecht. I reflected about all this as I programed the workout, but as I began and the sequence of explosion and release grew quicker, all was wiped from my mind except the determination to meet the goal that I had set for this morning. Now, having finished and with my upper body collapsed on my knees, my breath coming in gasps, and sweat soaking my tights and halter, I felt the pressure of a gaze on my back and suddenly realized that I had probably anticipated, perhaps even staged myself for Mike's eyes when he came up from the chamber. Not bothering to look around, I just said: "Mike are you okay?" The question shocked him, since he thought that I hadn't sensed his presence, so he stammered: "Uh, yeah, sore, but Su Lin helped. I'm going to shower and will see you downstairs for breakfast." Continuing to his bedroom, Mike realized the similarity of his emotional responses to Lieke last night and this morning. The sight of her muscles and mind at work on the rowing machine was mesmerizing. Continually bunching and extending, her long body was a well-tuned engine that elicited awe, while the tangle of fiery red hair caught behind her head made his heart drop in his chest, a ...
    somewhat wary love. In his bedroom, Mike removed the robe and examined his body. The bruises were spreading and worsening, but his body was still pretty fit. He had the thickness of a hockey defenseman, an identity reinforced by facial scars, the products of fights on the ice at Albany High School and Boston College. Although his physique had lost some definition, the first impression of him, particularly when dressed in his tailored Italian suits, was one of power, a solid, but elegant block of a man. However, stripped naked with his hairless white zone and his imprisoned penis, he was diminished. Stepping closer to the mirror, as he looked at the bold scar where his chest had been cracked, a sense of vulnerability surfaced. He suppressed it, however, for there were things to be done. He quickly showered, put on a charcoal Bardelli , picked up the valise that he had packed the previous day, and moved down the hall toward the stairs, As he passed the exercise room he saw that Lieke was now lifting weighs and as she cleaned the bar he saw the tattoo usually hidden under her upper left arm. I was tired, but euphoric from the workout and stripped off my tights and top on the way to my room. Like many Dutch women, I am tall with a big frame – 6'1" and 180 pounds. Stepping before the mirror on the back of the bathroom door, I raised my left arm and examined the tattooed dark red rectangle that ran down from my arm pit. The block letters of the reserved white skin inside spelled STERKTE. ...
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