She crosses over to me, all click clack and beautiful. She grabs my jawwith power, maybe anger, and raises my eyes to see her. "Say itbetter."I say no...hing. I'm in turmoil.She flips the desk I was sitting in on it's back and knees me. "Slut,we chose you because you're perfect. Don't fuck with me, or it willhurt you. Look at my husband."Again, I am thinking, why me? But I look and see Master Dave gloweringat me, waiting. Then his hand crushes the brandy snifter. A shard cutshis palm. Blood. He pushed her hesitant hand aside and ripped the silk all the way down until buttons flew and her bare, sticky thighs caught the breeze. It made her shiver. She squealed as he slapped her exposed tits — his nails scratching the flesh. She felt the stubbles of his chin on her tender throat. His teeth tore at her nipple. Her cheekbone bruised where he hit her. She doubled up and almost vomited as his fist pounded into the messy weakness of her vagina."Now move!" he said. He pushed her into the. More

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