You’ll never think of your backyard the same way after reading these short stories.
They’re fun and kinky, and her Master uses her in very creative ways.
“Why are you pulling up the leaf lettuce?” His light, inquisitive tone held a hint of a chuckle.
I glanced at the plant in my and then back at Master.
“These aren’t weeds?”
“No.” He cocked his head, his brow quirked over his right eye.
Goodness, that look was a turn on. I stared at the fistful of tender leaves in my hand. “They look like thistles.”
My mouth fell open. I glanced at the row. Half the plants lay in my hand. “I…uh…”
“I thought you said you had a garden?”
“When I was growing up.”
“Your parents planted leaf lettuce?”
“You should remember what they look like.”
“That was fifteen years ago, and I didn’t weed naked. They were crowding the lima beans”—waving my hand toward the short, tender vines curled around sticks—“and I’m babbling.”
I was right back to the issue that crowded my mind. He had given me one of my fantasies. The excitement of being observed. A bit of a shock factor. For my audience. Or was it? What was this lesson? And when would I find out? “Thinking coherently when you put me on display is an impossible task.”
“Good. I don’t want you thinking and making plans while you’re here. Just be. Replant them.” He pointed at my hands. Mirth gleamed in his eyes.
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