The girls eventually banded together, to work out for themselves, where I would go next.Some girls I found, needed help, and my girls gave it willingl.... Sometimes their abusive boyfriends needed to have an attitude adjustment. It didn't matter how old or how big they were, they eventually fell before me. Mother was used to patching up the cuts, bruises and other forms of trauma on me. In her official capacity as a nurse for my opponents, she said virtually nothing. Again the boys learned that. This wasmore secure, as even if she could get the key to the tiny locks intoher hands, she would be unable to insert it in the keyholes in eachbracelet. In addition, the half-twist on each arm kept them straight,and provided a pull on the shoulders that enhanced her posture.The bracelets were joined by a short metal bar with a swivel at eachend. The bar was just long enough for a male hand to grasp it firmly,to keep control of a slave girl in all situations. There were otherdesigns possible;. Her soft breasts were filling like cotton. Meanwhile she unzipped my pant and inserted her hand inside and started to squeeze my penis. I slowly whispering, ohh mom! Its feel so nice of your touch! She said really beta! I wanted to give every pleasure to my son. I want you to be happy with me. You are everything to me beta! And started to hardly squeeze my cock. U know beta! When you were child and I Brest feeding you, I used to play with your small penis. It was feeling so nice to me. Then I. “Honey, I am a bitch, my daughters are both bitches, you aren’t a bitch like us,” Betty smiled at me, and she meant that in the best possible way that I had hardly done things as bad as they have. It didn’t stop me from feeling guilty about the things I had done, though.“Well, according to your daughter, I look like a bitch. I also paid my son anonymously to do dirty things to you. I have a porn addiction. I kept all these secrets until they just exploded, and my meltdown is directly.