?My name is Master Rob. That is the only name that you are permitted to call me. If you don’t , then I will rip your fucking tongue out. Do you unde...stand me?? ?Yes Master Rob.? Blurts out Sarah. ?Also, your no longer have a name. You will be called whore number 395.? Sarah repeats ?Yes Master Rob.? In fear of him.Master Rob then walks away in silence, and shuts the door. Sarah is left in her own thoughts, why 395 she wonders? Then it comes to her, that is her home address. 395 Willow Ave. . She also said her old boyfriend, who had 'introduced her to her inner self', had evidently gotten bored and dumped her; now she felt as if she was 'adrift' since she had no one to take control.Lisa told Sandi, Sandi told me."Why are you telling me about this, Sandi? Both you and Lisa should know more than I do how to handle this." We do know ... that's what I'm telling you." What..." All she needs, Jake, is a stern father figure to make her feel secure." What she NEEDS is a shrink!" She's going. I began to push my pajama-covered cock into Mom’s mouth, trying to fuck it, but I had limited degrees of freedom. Nevertheless, I kept thrusting, she kept milking, I pushed and twisted my knee, and she kept squeezing and rubbing.Suddenly, Mom’s hand slipped down my hips, dragging my pajamas with them just as her mouth yanked off my soaked tent. One brief moment of freedom and my pole was quickly captured again, only this time the captor was warmer, wetter, softer and more vigorous. Mom’s head. I was peeking around the edge of the dugout from inside when she caught me at it.Maybe she'd been peeking at me.Martinez the Elder gave me a big smile and I instantly smiled back and came out from behind the protection of the dugout. The three of them -- Orlie, Maria and Whatzername -- were coming down the outer stairway that brought spectators down to ground level, just behind the dugout.I met them there, with a three-foot high wire fence separating us. "You've got a lovely daughter, Ms..