Whatever he had to endure, whatever predicament he faced, Donald knew it was temporary, that he had a home and a life to return to at the end of his �...�vacation”. His brain was conflicted. On some deep level, he wanted this to be his existence for life. His role in life, his true identity was an inferior pain pig. He wanted his owners to be proud of him, to be proud of how much pain he could take for them; he wanted them to enjoy inflicting pain on him. As the end of the first week drew. I opened another bottle of her mother's wine for dinner, and then after dinner we took the remainder out to the den, where I built a fire. We sat drinking our wine and staring into the flames, lost in thought. "You know my mother's hot for your bod, she wants you bad." "I think at your mother's age she's more lonely for company than for sex" "Thank god, I hate to think of my mother having sex." "Now wait a minute Whitney, your mother is a very attractive woman and if she has needs you shouldn't. More

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