I asked him if he kept records of all his slaves and their whereabouts and learned that most of his older records are in the secret room upstairs. The...more current records are kept at the studio where he has an identical room hidden off of his private bathroom. Before I turned the camera off I asked, "Dave, have you ever killed a slave?"He calmly answered, "Yes." How many slaves have you killed?" Personally I've killed four. More have been killed in the making of some of the DVDs when someone. He couldn't understand it; what was in this stuff?Whatever was in it, he knew one thing: he would never eat a donut, or a muffin, or a cupcake, or anything made with that damned flour. He was starting to believe it was cursed. He looked himself in the mirror, water dripping off his face, his hair askew, red marks on his face and neck where Julie's ravenous mouth had kissed him -- he looked like a wreck.I should stop this now, he thought. I should throw that flour away, pour it down the toilet. He pulls his shirt off, and i lay down pulling you down on tops of me. You take the shirt off of my shoulders and kiss the top of them. i unbutton my jeans, so he can slip them off, and he sees the thong i am wearing and smiles. He kisses down my stomach, every few seconds or so looking up at me. He pulls my thong just enough to expose my swollen clit. I take a deep breath in as he barely touches it with the tip of his tounge. I let out the breath just as a mountain of heat goes through my. I was alone, I had no idea how Mark and Susan had gotten out of bed without waking me, maybe I was just that exhausted. I crawled out of bed and decided to see where everyone was at. I made my way downstairs to find Mark standing in the living room wearing a white terry cloth robe and talking on his cell phone.He put his hand over the phone, smiled at me and told me Susan was in the kitchen to go on in. Susan was sitting at the table eating a piece of toast and drinking a cup of coffee. She.