She atypically accepted Jeaves’ offer of a little scent. He still had his shirt on, that was spoiling things. Milf sex “Space Commander Travis” was a stoic hero, but he had screwed up (in some unspecified manner), and “Supreme Commander Servalan” got to punish him. When she finally opened her eyes, she was in her suite, reclining on the chaise. It was heavy, she wasn’t built to wield this weapon. These were accommodations befitting her status as a Sovereign Minister. “I am not your mistress, ‘Minister’ is the correct form of address.”
“Yes, Minister.” He said meekly. The account of last night obviously affected him as much as her. Jeaves spoke, “If your attire is not to your liking, I can arrange for anything else you desire.”
“Yeah, sure.” She was getting used to the dressing thing, but for now the gown was suitable for her purposes. She was close.
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