You’ll be our first slavegirl. Well, you’ll be my first slavegirl. I know your mother has enjoyed some, including you, in the past.”“Yes, Fath...r,” she repeated. She watched in shock as her father’s hand slowly glided up her right leg. She had thought that nothing could ever surprise her again after all that she had been through during the summer, but she was wrong. The hand kept climbing her thigh until it reached the top and rested on her mound. She was beyond surprised or shocked. She was. Perfect. I'd worked through lunch just to achieve this. I pulled on my jacket, keeping the phone in one hand and texted while one of my fellow escapees pressed the down button. "You home?" I sent, my phone chirped as it sent the message and the elevator binged its arrival.I'd have to wait for the reply -- the elevator blocked my service. But I could wait, I was in an awesome mood, because it was a Thursday. Thursdays used to suck -- they were the worst day of the week; they're near the end of a. More

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