Drifted, wondering how I’d landed myself with a submissive woman. Mister conventional. Ha!I slept really well, but woke as usual before the alarm. C...ncelled it and walked round the bed to go get some breakfast. Tripped over something at the foot of the bed. Julia, curled up in the duvet, fast asleep. Shaking my head I went to make coffee.So I sat with my second cup, slice of toast and marmalade, listening to the morning news from the BBC. Misery. Refugees from Syria overwhelming Lebanon, Turkey. None of them were surprised. They all looked openly interested. Nodding to Lars, I rose and addressed them all. From Mr. Swenson's reaction, this was not according to plan. Tough noogies.I said, "Thank you for inviting me here today. As Lars said, I have a PhD from Yale and soon expect to receive another from Dartmouth. My name is Siobhan Richards. I was born and raised in upstate New Jersey. You may know my brother Sean, CEO of Richards Enterprises." Another ripple. More new information. "Lars. " He proceeded to pump her hard and fast, taking no consideration for her pleasure."Please," she begged. "Not so hard."He ignored her pleas.She groaned under his merciless pounding.As he came, he shoved his dick in deep, as his cock pumped load after load of sperm into her. That set off an orgasm in her.She moaned as he pulled his wilting penis out.He rose and unbound her arms and legs. "Now, do you think you can remember?"Still crying, she sniffed. "Yes, Master." Because, next time, I'll have. I had to move my other hand to my lap. I didn't wish her to see the erection forming. That wouldn't do."Thank you Dick. I think I'm going to really depend upon you. You're such a smart man. I can tell by reading your books. You're so good at poetry, Dick."I think I may have been blushing. "That's kind of you, Emma. I know I'm not a great poet, but I do think I've written a few poems that would stand up to critical scrutiny." Well, I just know they seem good to me. So anyway, I was wondering. It.