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Mistress stepped right back from the tray and reviewed her work. Without uttering a phrase, she made and left the room for a brief moment. When she came ultimately back I could see in the part of my attention that she moved something like a plastic package and some glistening object. She put equally objects on the rack between my legs. Then she left the room again, but now I immediately acknowledged the thing that she cut back by the noise. Mistress dragged her beloved armchair in to the space and towards the rack. This armchair looked like a small wooden throne. When she'd reached the edge of the sheet, she found the seat and placed it onto the outer lining of the rack. The feet of the chair fit right beside my armpits and my hips. I was presented just like a picture. Since the throne was in place, I noticed what Mistress was planning to accomplish to me that day. If she remaining the throne in this position then she'd be able to use my face as her footstool. That has been