You pull my hands up over my head, binding my wrists together and to the metal bar at the head of the bed frame. I am too scared to even move but can'... resist testing the binding to see if I can escape. I can feel you watching me, amused at my frustration when I find how tightly bound I am, my voice muffled through the gag. You laugh at my efforts. My face burns with humiliation but you do not care as you firmly grip my thighs, spreading them, the gown riding up higher to expose my white granny. Jace, the father, is a forty-two year old child. He loves stupid “dad jokes” and laughs at the most childish things. He is also a daredevil who can’t get enough adrenaline in his system, which is why he became a firefighter. His childish personality is hidden behind his suave demeanor; he’s a real charmer. He keeps his body in shape and is oftentimes mistaken for a man in his early thirties, thanks in part to his bright red, wavy, shoulder-length hair and his round buttocks. He stands at five. They were well known to us as we often used to meet at functions. They were 5 ppl. His mom, dad, bro, sis and himself. My husband and children welcomed them and asked them to take their seats on sofa in our living room. I was sweating with excitement inside kitchen. I was preparing snacks and coffee for them. After sometime, my husband and relatives called me from outside. My relatives came inside kitchen to help me place the snacks plates and coffee cups on big plate. Slowly, they bought me to. The most important of these made Eric the final beneficiary of most of the assets, to devolve to him when he turns twenty-five. Then I turned the documents over to Hans’ lawyers, and asked them to try to tear them apart. I didn’t want anyone, in the wake of Grandfather Eric’s eventual death, to be able to grab his namesake’s inheritance from him. I wanted the trust to be absolutely ironclad, and finally, it was.I set aside funds and steady income streams from the trust for an orphanage Mistress.