Bailey puts herself at my disposal

Walking into Bailey’s room, I’m surprised to find it all pink and lace and frills—that doesn’t seem to fit her personality. But then, people often don’t fit together as neatly as we usually assume. The unmade bed, on the other hand, is no surprise. She’s unconcerned by it, pulling the sheets down to the foot and sitting on the edge. “I want to be clear about a couple things, Sir,” she says. “I’m not looking to be the next Mrs. Harrison; I’m not ready to be tied down. I don’t want a ring, I don’t want your babies, I just want your cock. I just want to be your fucktoy. I want to be your little cum addict, and I want you to be my pusher.

“So tell me, Sir, how do you want to use your cockwhore’s slutty little cunt?”