She let her thoughts drift . . . selecting mental snapshots of being bound . . . swallowing . . . opening, pushing . . . delicious beyond what she was wanting to admit, to anyone else . . . Then smiling to herself reliving the stab of pleasure and pain . . . and letting go . . . the sweet sweet mindless privilege of not thinking but letting him take her as he wanted . . . and, the strange sense of confidence. . . and pride, that wrapped her like his arms . . . like she wrapped his cock inside her cunt . . . What would she do? What wouldn’t she? “Oh, nothing . . . nothing I won’t do . . .” she whispered to herself, blushing at the thought of what he required of her, replaying it slowly and sinfully feeling her face flush and her nipples rise.
She arrived to work on time, physically. But concentrating within her cubicle was a challenge. The things asked of her that she could do without thinking she accomplished without returning from her distracted thoughts. She awaited . . . something from him . . . She’d given in, there would be a next time . . . and a next and a next . . . the oddest vow she’d taken, she thought . . . to do anything for him . . . even if? “Oh yes . . . “ She answered the question out loud.
She had pushed away the images long enough to apply herself to the meaningless tasks and inquiries. The email came to her like one of the images of the night before. “My sweet cunt, meet me straight after work at this address. I will be waiting in the lounge. You will not disappoint me.” She smiled when she recognized the famous address and cut her work short, excusing herself for ‘an errand’ after lunch. He would know when she was to get off work and he was right, she would not disappoint him. But she would need time to change and attend to some things that any woman would be indulged for. But she would be on time.
Wilshire Boulevard traffic moved erratically, but she arrived in Beverly Hills at the Polo Lounge in reasonable time. The valet opened her door, took her keys and left her standing at the curb. A thought of the day before when she stood on the curb and took that first step . . . walking to the building across the Third Street Promenade and putting her in his hands unconditionally came to mind . . . and then the sweet fragrance of sex and the sting of pleasure, the helplessness. She took the step again and left choices behind her, perhaps forever, and thought only of responding to his next choice, his next need . . .
weezer
Rocker 
Who else would be in part 4? Would there be a new Axel that Eddie Murphy will have to mold throughout the movie?