Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the...difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of. We had a dishwasher, but it would not respond to my commands, just like most of the other devices in the kitchen. That meant I had to do everything by hand, including sterilizing everything after they were washed. It was a long, dull job, and I knew that after the remark that I was simply his property, Bob considered me nothing more than a slave.Still, one didn’t have to intentionally make life difficult even for a slave! The devices all had automated controls. Disabling them took effort and. I think you are even nicer that my father. I wish you were my father. Anyway, I wonder, may I ask another favor, Dick?"I cleared my throat. It was getting stuffy in here."Umm ... yes, Emma. You, uh, you can ask anything. I'll try to help, if I can."My hand was on my desk as she kept her hand on my arm. It was bare, as I was wearing short sleeves. I felt goosebumps rising, as she gently stroked my skin. I had to move my other hand to my lap. I didn't wish her to see the erection forming. That. My futa-dick drank in that silky friction while my mother's fingers dipped into my butt-crack. This wild shudder ran through me. Her fingers caressed my asshole. She teased me. I shuddered and trembled on the bed. I wiggled, my heart hammering in my chest. This wicked thrill spilled through me as she pressed against my asshole.My mom's finger popped into my bowels.This naughty, incestuous thrill shot through me. I shook my head. This dizzying sway rippled through my body. I groaned. I thrust.