Throbbing (story) Part One

 (please hit play before reading)

The apartment was dark. It had been a little while since I was here. I knew that everyone wanted to be careful. So, we stopped the sessions until we all felt comfortable being around each other. I closed the door behind me as I stepped in.

I looked to the left, where the living room and kitchen were; no one. Not even a light was on. The hallway to my right was dark as well with just the lamp on at the far end. I walked to the door that was always unlocked for me and went in. As normal, a note was on the bed. With what I was to wear tonight.

The note was not an order, but a request. I could leave if I wanted to. I could not remember that last time that a note left for me was not an order. I laid it back on the bed and went about showering and changing. The hot water felt nice tonight.

I am always disappointed that I can never get the smell of garlic completely off of me from work. Even though I work as a line cook with a bunch of guys and I swear and bump them back when they try to bump me off of my place...I still like to be a girl, look and smell nice. Sometimes I can pull of the look, but no matter what, the garlic always managed to be present. I sighed and did my best.

I toweled off. Took time on my hair, even a little bit of make up. I let the towel drop to the floor and put on the clothes that were laid out for me. Very simple tonight. Black lace bra and panties. In no time, I was ready.

I went back out into the hallway and glanced to the the room at the far end. The door was open. I followed the directions on the note and got on my hands and knees. I made my way to the open door and crawled in.

Instead of the usual mound of pillows under the one light bulb in the room, there was a bed instead. The camera that sent out the live feed was aimed at the door and the red light was on, meaning that anonymous watchers were seeing me already. I stopped at the moment at the door, looking directly at the camera.

My eyes went up and saw Sir standing behind the camera, one hand on it. His usual white shirt, black pants and Italian shoes, I could smell how scrubbed clean he was. I loved that smell on him. I bent my head for a moment, and then continued to crawl towards him.

I went past the camera, noting that Sir was making sure the camera stayed on me. When I got to the bed, as instructed, I placed the side of my face on the floor. I clasped my hands behind my back, with my bottom in the air, for everyone who was watching to see.

Sir rarely talked when the camera was on, normally giving simple instructions. Tonight was a little different as he spoke, “Tonight, Suzy is with me and only me. Her night with her Mistress will be at a later time if she so chooses. Suzy, stand up and face the audience.”

I stood up. I turned and looked straight into the camera as the note instructed. The red light on. I placed my hands behind me, crossed at the wrists as if bound. Sir, walked to me, pulling out a pair of steel cuffs.

He knelt down and I had to stifle an urge to run my hands through his dark hair. I gasped a little when he placed the cuffs on my ankles. They were cold. But I kept looking into the camera, wondering who was watching...who was wishing they were me, or wishing to be Sir. Men and women, forever unknown to me, I could pass them on the street and they would know who I was but I would never know who they were....

He pulled out another pair of cuffs from his other pocket. He stood behind me and clasped them onto my wrists. He made them very tight. Just the way I like it: I liked being marked this way.

On the bed were three, white, silk scarves. As I silently gazed into the camera, he lifted a scarf up and then ordered me to open my mouth. It had a knot in it. I opened my little mouth, he placed the knot in past my teeth. He pulled the ends back, the know going further in. And in one quick movement, he tied off the gag, a surprised sound coming out of me as the scarf bit into my cheeks, and as he made tighter before making the knot.

Sir stood next to me and reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a hankie. He stuffed it into my gagged mouth, muffling me. I closed my eyes for just a moment and when I opened them, I saw the second scarf, and pulled it across my small mouth, completely over my cruelly gagged, little mouth.

He pulled on it tight again, and again, the wide scarf pressed into my cheeks. My eyes briefly rolled up as I moaned a little, feeling so dominated and loving it. My eyes slowly came back to the camera, but were unfocused, already slipping into subspace.

And as I stood there, not really seeing anything, as my unfocused eyes stared blankly ahead, as I was softly moaning into the gag, as I felt the tightness down below and the first hint of wetness, legs pressing and releasing, getting so wonderfully lost in the steel cuffs and the domination of my gag...

The last scarf came over my eyes. And just like the gag, the scarf was wide and pressed firmly on me. I was in the darkness. And I knew that I was in that special place of helplessness and need and it was soooo good and Sir had to catch me before I sank to me knees...and there was the start of the pulse that was in me that made my nipples hard and made me wet and the tightness was unbearable....

Sir laid me down on the bed. I was on my side. Lost in my feeling the aches and needs of my body, feeling the cuffs, totally under control of the blindfold and gag...Sir laid down behind me. I vaguely remember hearing him move the camera moving closer, talking about me, what was to happen and all I could do was whimper into my gag and writhe on the bed....

For a moment, he was just behind me. Then I head a rustle. And then I felt his hand guide my cuffed hands towards him. Then I felt the heat and hardness in the palms of my tiny hands. At first, I did not know, but when I gently squeezed that hard warmth, I heard Sir gasp a little and then I remembered.

In my mind's eye, I could see a screen. Showing me and Sir. Me in front of Sir. Bound, gagged and blindfolded. I was writhing, but I could see that behind me, my hands were working Sir. My body undulating as if Sir were in me.

Then I came back to the darkness and knew only Sir's cock in my cuffed hands. Gently pulling and stoking. Fingertips caressing his head, while my bottom pressed against. And to my embarrassment, I was panting. I was panting, because I wanted it.

And as I stroked him, pressed against him so desperately, undulating and panting and whimpering into the gaga...he whispered into my ear. He called me a slut. A whore. A bitch. Dirty. Filthy.

And he was right. I was all of those things in that moment. I wanted him to shove himself into my nasty, whore ass...into my dirty and slutty pussy...I wanted him to rip the gag out so that he could ram that hardness and spread my small lips as my pink tongue lapped at him and sucked at him with my cheeks, wanting to be that dirty whore for his cock...and now I was moaning loudly into the gag....

He roughly flipped me onto my back. I was startled and almost breathless. I heard a sound like a click and I squealed in fear into my gag when I felt the tip of the knife on my stomach. I tried to squirm away, but Sir clamped a hand onto my neck. I stilled immediately.

His hand firm on my neck. Strong, slightly squeezing me. I was completely dominated now. My body reacting to the control of my neck, my breathing, my submissiveness taking hold, and just laying there...trembling, but otherwise still.

The tip of the blade lightly scraped my skin as Sir went up. And went he cut away the bra, when the blade grazed a hard nipple ever so slightly, I felt the tightness almost...almost...give way to an orgasm and I groaned into the gag, because I had wanted that orgasm....

Then I felt his lovely cock on my stomach. Moving up and down on my soft, vulnerable stomach. And I moved my hips with him, trying to coax him into me...

He released my neck. Straddling me, he used his own hand. Stroking himself. I pressed up wards, pressing myself into his crotch, trying to move my legs, to wrap them around his waist, but my ankles were cuffed...and the tightness down there was beginning to hurt me, it was dull and aching and I was so wet...oh, god, so wet....

He didn't make a noise. Instead, I felt a hot wetness splash onto my stomach. Then more...and then some more. And even blindfolded, my eyes rolled back, and even gagged, my little mouth tried to open as I almost came from feeling his cum splash on me....

I don't know how much time passed. All I know is that at some point I had drifted away but was brought back by the pain, that dull ache of the orgasm that hasn't let out yet. I felt a coldness wipe on my stomach, cleaning me up. The Sir, slowly sat me up.

He undid my gag. He undid the first scarf and I felt it fall on my thighs and then slip away. Sir unpacked my mouth and undead the rest of the gag. I moved my jaw a little. Realized that I was making small sounds the entire time.

Sir cupped my chin in his palm and lifted my face up, “You are such a little slut. But you are my little slut.”

He helped me off the bed and onto the floor. Still blindfolding and whimpering a little, I could hear the camera move again. He ordered me to tilt my head up and of course, I obeyed.

I could hear his voice, cold, “The audience is watching you. So, be honest, just nod your head if it's true that you are hurting because you need to cum so badly.”

I nodded. It hurt, oh it hurt.

Softly, “I know it hurts. I was hurting until you released me, so I know.”

I could hear kneel next to me, “But Mistress is also hurting. And before you can stop hurting, you also have to help her. She's not here...but she is watching us, right now. I'm sure if you begged her...she would come here tonight, right now. And it would be all over, tonight, we can all be released tonight, you being the last. But you have to convince Mistress....you have to beg her, now, while everyone is watching. Wait for the door to close...then you can start.”

I heard Sir's footsteps go towards the door. I sat back on my heels. Looking down. And then I head the door close and begged...oh god, I begged.

I begged her to come tonight. I begged her and anyone who was watching me saw me beg her and promise how well I would please her with little mouth, my pink tongue pleasuring her, begging her to come here and to hurt me with her hand or crop on my bottom, promising to lick her boots, nipple clamps, to be her pony, to be her slut, her whore...

Please come here, now, because I was hurting, everything felt so tight, and it hurt so much, I I was throbbing...throbbing inside so hard and it hurt SO much...please, Mistress, please...make me dirty, make me filthy, make me please you...just please come, please Mistress...please...I'm crying...please Mistress...please...

(End Part One)

Return to the Room (story) by suzyisgagged

(please play while reading)

I had been away from the room for too long...

I missed getting the commands to appear at the quiet apartment in downtown Baltimore. I missed using my key to come into a silent place, missed walking on the hardwood floors. I missed going to the bedroom, to find the clothes I would wear for the planned sessions. But work is work, and even Mistress and Sir understood that.

Earlier in the day, I felt the need. I felt a longing. And I had the time. And for once, it was I who made the proper texts. Telling Sir and Mistress that I would be there in the evening. If they wanted to come. If they still wanted me.

Much later, I found myself at the door. My key slid in and worked perfectly. I walked in and stood for a moment in the main hallway, looking to the left; the main room and kitchen with its sparse furniture. To the right, the long hallway with several doors, of which only two were ever available to me.

The click of my heels on the floor echoed. The white and grays of the walls and doors very simple. Very spartan. The bedroom door was open. I walked in and saw the large bed. A note and what I was to wear laying on it.

I took off my work clothes. I went to the shower adjacent to the bedroom. After cleaning off the day, I set about to make myself up. Then, once ready, I went to the bed to put on my clothes for the session.

The collar went on first. Wide, black leather, constraining and comforting on my neck. The single, silver ring gleaming. I flicked at it and listened to the clink of metal. I smiled. This was Mistress's wish for me to wear.

I was given just one piece of clothing; one of Sir's white shirts. The sleeves rolled up just enough. I slipped it on and buttoned it up, leaving the last quarter undone, the collar of the shirt wide open. I used the white silk strip in my short hair as a headband, tying it into a small bow on top. Sir's desire for me tonight.

No heels for me. No hose, no garters, nothing but bare legs. The red lipstick left for me. The dark eye shadow and mascara. My feet somewhat cold on the bare, wood floor.

I read the note. The simple commands.

I got on my hands and knees and crawled out of the bedroom. I turned left and slowly went down the hallway, the only light coming from other buildings through the one window; a pulsing red from across and above.

I crawled to the only other open door in the hallway. The room. The room I always went to. The room I so desperately missed. I crawled inside, feeling excited and calm at seeing the familiar sights.

The single bulb in the center of the room, hanging down, creating a circle of light. Inside the circle were the pillows, arranged in the most comfortable mound on the hardwood floor. Just like always.

I crawled towards the light. Past Sir's chair. Next to the camera, hooked up to a lap top. I looked up as I slinked past the empty chair; the camera's red light already on. Already streaming to an audience. Just for a moment, I glanced at the screen on the lap top and saw the men and women who loved to watch me suffer, to be submissive, to enjoy my pleasure and my pain...all of them logging on. I crawled away.

Knowing that so many were watching me. Watching me crawl back to the room, to the pillows, to Sir and Mistress...and to them. Happy. Feeling happy to be back to them. To offer myself up again. All those unknown viewers I know so well.

I made it to the pillows. In the center were two items I was instructed to put on for the camera, for the audience. I raised up and sat back on my knees, looking right at the camera. I blew everyone a small kiss and let out a very brief, small smile for them.

I reached down to the first item. The black ball gag. I lifted it up by the straps, pulled them tight. I regarded it for a moment, and gave it a kiss, lingering, tasting it. Looking directly into the camera, I pulled the ball into my little mouth.

A slow pull. The ball going past my teeth. I pulled the straps back, behind me. Slipped one end through the clasp. I paused and then viciously pulled it tight. I let out a small noise and my eyes slid shut in pleasure.

They opened only when I cinched the clasp and buckle. The leather straps pulling into the corners of my tiny mouth. I traced a finger from my lower lip, over my chin, under it, stopping just under my neck.

I glanced down and saw the leather cuffs. Fur-lined. Pad locks next to each one. I placed one on my wrist. Slid the pad lock on and locked it with a satisfying click. I drew my wrists behind me. Locked in my other wrist.

Still looking at the camera, I brought my bound wrists to one side and up. Turned slightly. Wanting to show them, all of them, that I was helpless.

As per the commands, I slowly lowered myself onto the pillows. I lay down on my side, facing the camera...always facing the camera. I sighed, body inside the crisp, white shirt, breasts visible, but not exposed. Lips framing my gag. I let out a nice, satisfied noise...

Within moments, Sir walked in. Wearing one of his shirts, black tie and slacks, Italian shoes softly making noises as he walked in. He stopped at the chair, put his hand on it, regarding me, looking dark, stylish and perfect. The quintessential gentleman demon.

Mistress came in. Looking severe as always. Lovely boots that I have licked in submission, clicking on the floor. Knee-length, latex skirt framing her legs. A short-sleeved blouse, buttoned all the way up. Her lovely, blonde hair flowing down her shoulders, blue cat-eyes to get lost in and that evil and delicious smile....

Together, they walked to me, the camera capturing them. Then capturing us, showing the three of us to an audience of so many. Mistress and Sir looking down at me. Silent. Approving. Stern. Waiting.

I turned my torso so I looked up at them. Wrists bound in heavy leather behind me. Bare legs still to the side. Offering my body. Letting Sir, Mistress and the audience know. Know that I still wanted them. Always wanted them...

As I looked into Sir and Mistress's heartbreakingly lovely faces, I slowly nodded my chin upwards at them, my eyes not letting them look away, giving them the one, silent command that really mattered with a slow blink of my eyes....

I need you. I love you. Drown me in pleasure. Do it. Now.

And they obeyed.

Desperate Desire (story)

Mistress and Sir are smirking at me.

Earlier, I was ordered to come to them straight after work. They made me stand in the almost empty room, under the one light again. The camera's red light came on; we were streaming.

Sir wore his normal black suit and hood. Mistress was her beautiful self, all in leather, blonde hair in a bun, smelling like jasmine, blue eyes both laughing and cat-like, her smile cruel. And there I stood, in front of the sofa.

In my tan skirt that went to my knees, white blouse with long sleeves and high collar, white hair band in my brown hair. I was told by Sir in an email to wear hose and white panties today to work with heels.

The had bound me with rope tonight. Tightly. As they bound me, they whispered into my ears, one at a time. Telling me I was a slut. A whore. Desperate for Sir's cock or Mistress' strap on to fuck my nasty holes. That I would get on my knees and beg for it. That I was trash. I wasn't even a person, just fuck meat. And that's what I wanted to be: a dirty, nasty, slutty, whorish little girl.

By the time they finished binding me, I was on on the sofa. Arms bound together behind my back at the elbows and wrists. Ropes going above and below my breasts. The knots *so* tight they made my chest thrust out some.

Mistress lifted my chin, “For that slutty, whore mouth of yours....”

She jammed a ball gag into my little mouth. She jerked the gag straps so tight they cut into my cheeks. I moaned a little and was rewarded with a light slap to the face and a harsh “shut up, bitch”.

Then Sir shoved my skirt up. He roughly folded my leg, ankle under my thigh and bound them together. I could feel my heels start to dig underneath me when he was done. And the last thing he did was to put a very tight and very knotted crotch rope on me.

The crotch rope was taut over my hose and panties. It rubbed against me. It was *too* tight. It chafed.

Then they had stepped away from. The stood behind the camera, the little red light went on, saying that we now streaming. Sir adjusted the camera as I half-sat and half-lain down on the sofa. Then they folded their arms and smirked at me.

As I looked at the camera, I was unsure. I was given no direction. I was simply bound, gagged and verbally degraded. But no directions, no orders. They were just *smirking*.

I moved slightly on the sofa and felt a tendril of pleasure as I moved against the knotted crotch rope. I whimpered a little. Then I looked at the camera. How many of you saw that? Did my face say that I liked it? Did you hear me whimper?

My face grew red. Embarrassed. Yes, of course, all of you saw me. You saw me be a little bit slutty. Just as Mistress and Sir said. But I'm not...I play the part, but I'm not! I'm a good girl! The way I dress is respecta-

I moved and moaned again. The rope sliding over my hose and panties, digging in. And that's when I knew. Oh no...I *knew*...

I turned my head, ashamed and closed my eyes. I wasn't just red in my face. My face was *burning*. I felt a tear go down my cheek and I knew why, because they were right, *goddamn* them....

In the end, they were right. I couldn't help it. My hips slowly undulated. They grind in slow circles. My legs couldn't close, You all could see everything. Moving against the ropes. Tan hose and white panties pushing and grinding against the red rope.

Moaning louder and louder. Face getting redder and redder and I am *SO* ashamed. Still not looking at the camera, not able to see the rd light telling me you are all watching me...

I'm not a good girl. I'm not respectable. Sir and Mistress were right.

As I sit here, in proper clothes, yet still looking like a bondage whore, hips moving and grinding my way to a desperate orgasm, chest thrust out like a tease...even though I am fully clothed...I'm a slut.

As my eyes slowly open, as my move more quickly, as I moan and moan and moan and whimper and beg into my gag, I look into the camera and I know...I *know*...

I'm a dirty, nasty, slutty, whore. And I am embarrassed and ashamed that I need this so badly, That I want Sir and Mistress to fuck my nasty holes and make me scream. That you can see my desperate desires to give up and fuck and to be hate-fucked.

Wanting Sir and Mistress to rip my clothes off, rip the crotch rope off and fuck me. Fuck me with cock and strap-ons. In my small ass and dirty cunt. Knowing that all you men and women want to do the same to me, fuck me like a slut, slap me, choke me while you fuck me as you watch me.

Little pathetic me, bound and gagged, fully clothed, writhing like a needy whore on the sofa, the crotch rope giving me so much pleasure but not an orgasm...

Until I scream at Sir and Mistress, drool cascading down my chin, begging them to fuck me, please please please just *FUCK ME!!!!*

And then they chuckle and simply walk out of the room. Leaving me to buck my hips wildly against the crotch rope, moaning and sobbing as you watch me try to cum.....

  

Beckoned (story)

I got the note at work today. A simple note on a card. It was a time and a place I know well. It's only fifteen minutes by cab. When I get these notes, I simply come when beckoned.

I have my own key to this condo. It's in an older building, tenth floor. Lovely condos, very private. I come here to play when I am called for.

The apartment is sparsely furnished. There is a glass of water on the table with another note. As I drink the water, I read the note. It tells me exactly where to go and what to do. I am to go to the only open door on the left, down the long hallway, no where else.

My hear skips a little as I walk down the hallway, heels clicking on the hardwood floor. I stop at the open door and look at the end of the hall. The door there is closed but light is coming out from the crack at the bottom. That's the room the I play in. I've been in two of the other four bedrooms. Those other rooms are for others, forbidden to me.

I walk into my bedroom. A white box on the ornate poster bed. Another note. This note commands me to put on the clothes in the box and to hang my work clothes up in the closest. This means I will be spending the night here. I lay down the note and open the box.

I quickly change into the black lace panties and bra. Garters and stockings. I slip the heels on, a little tall for me, but I can still walk in them. I clasp the ankle straps. I pull out the collar. It's my normal collar that I wear here. A collar well-worn and loved. A soft, black leather collar with a single ring in front.

I take my time putting it on. Loving the familiar feel, the small thrill as I pull it tightly on my neck before clasping it into the proper notch. It's been rubbed with oil recently: I like that smell.

I stand up and put on the new, black silk robe that was also in the box. Cool, slinky. I slip the belt on and use a loose knot. I am sure this will be coming off soon.

I walk out the door, leaving it open. When I am here, it isn't allowed to be closed, certainly never locked. I walk to the door at the end of the hall. I knock on the door, just as the note commanded. I count to three and enter.

Sir and Mistress are sitting in the middle of the room, on two plush chairs. There is a single bulb above them lighting them in a circle. Normally, I would be in that circle of light, kneeling on pillows, waiting for Sir or Mistress, or both, to come and play with me. But not tonight. Tonight, I am to come to them.

I walk up to the camera and turn it on. I look down to the laptop on the small table. Everything working correctly, everyone now watching us.

Sir is in his white, custom-made button down shirt, silk black tie, black pants and shiny shoes. His coat draped over the back of his chair. His steel-gray hair is slicked back and he is wearing his simple masquerade mask. He doesn't like his face to be seen on the feed.

Mistress, however, does. She's wearing her leather, knee-high boots. Her legs are crossed. Her black, silk skirt coming over her knees. Startling white blouse and she's wearing her kid gloves tonight. There's a black ribbon choker on her neck, silver cameo glinting in the light. Her blonde hair up in a loose bun. Ruby red lips and blue feline eyes...looking cruel and lovely.

I step into the light and turn for them. Slowly, so they can see me in the clothes they have chosen for me. I keep turning until Sir commands me to look at the camera. I see the red light on, knowing that all of you out there are watching us. Watching me.

Sir snaps his fingers. I slowly undo the robe's belt. I move my shoulders just a bit, and the robe simply glides off my shoulders and into the crooks of my arms. I smile at the camera. Smile at all of you. I let the robe drop to the floor.

I move slowly to my knees, eyes never off the camera. Once on my knees, my hands lay in my lap, waiting. I am very still. Until Sir snaps his fingers again. Now, I turn my back on you. No offense, but now I am for my Sir and Mistress.

I crawl on my hands and knees. Eyes up to Mistress. She looks down on me, smugly. A quirk to her lips, the smile of a beautiful sadist. I come closer to her. She points to the toe of one boot.

I can smell the leather. It's been shined. Clean. I close my eyes and kiss the toe lightly. She moves her foot so the top of the boot caresses my face. I lean into it and close my eyes. She takes it away from me and I pout a little.

I turn to Sir. I crawl to his chair. I kiss his shoe. He puts the foot forward so that the toe glides along my chest. He brings it back and lifts my chin with his shoe.

Sir command, “Come to me.”

I start at his feet. My small hands moving up his shins. Over his knees, my body following. Over his thighs, breasts pressed against them, face almost at his stomach, I briefly look down and I sigh.

I keep moving up. I smell his shirt. I smell him. No cologne, just crisp soap; such a clean smell. I turn as I go up further. I sit lightly Sir's lap.

I look up as Mistress stands. She takes two steps towards us. She's looking down at me. Those cruel lips smiling, lips that I want so badly. I move my bottom in small circles on Sir's lap, leaning forward towards Mistress.

They both suddenly move quickly, without warning. Sir wraps one arm around me, pinning my arms to me, his hand moves to my collared neck, grabs it and squeezes.

My eyes fly open. Breath caught in my throat, and Sir squeezes a little more and it becomes so deliciously hard to breathe.

Mistress grabs my hair and yanks my head back. Her hand cupping my chin, fingers mashing and pushing into my cheeks. She keeps shaking my head. Pulling and pressing into my cheeks.

And I my heart jackhammers. Sir keeps squeezing me, air slowly cutting off. Mistress hurting me, sharp pain and my cheeks in a vice, head being jerked back and forth. Body being squeezed by Sir. They are hurting me, the love to hurt me and I simply adore it and I let them...but I am so scared.

I let out a small whimper.

And then Mistress stops pulling my hair and moving my head. Her hand is light on my cheeks, no longer squeezing my lips. Sir lets up on my neck and he stops squeezing my body, but pulls me against his chest, sliding me backwards on his lap.

Mistress has a needful look on her face; she's looks she is pain. I realize she is about to cry. She lets out a very small sound I don't even know how to describe. She comes to me and kisses me softly on the lips.

I smell jasmine on her. My favorite scent. Our lips touch and press and glide over each other, until I yield and open my small mouth a little. Mistress kisses me deeply. Hand holding my head gently, caressing my hair, my face. I let my eyes close and I start to go into a warn, loving numbness.

As I go down inside, Sir kisses the side of my neck. His strong arms holding me to him. Breath tickling me. Fingers on my neck now massaging me, lightly, simple caresses. His hand moves up and holds one breast, searching and finding my nipple.

And as I relax. As I give up. As I give up everything to them. As I happily let myself down into the pit of sensations. I feel a tear from Mistress hit my cheek.

Sir whispers into my ear, his voice full of need and quiet desperation, “We're lost...we can't find our way back...”

Mistress pulls away and looks into my eyes, her lovely feline eyes glistening, she whispers so softly, “Save us...please...save us...”

I simply nod and bring them both to me as I tell them that I love them both oh so much.....