That's wrong. I mustn't enjoy this. My body mustn't get pleasure out of this. After all, I'm still being held captive, a sex slave, a plaything, as th... woman had said. Yet there's not much I can do about it. My mind is fighting the sensations, my body eagerly accepts them. I can imagine what's going to happen once the girl has reached my pussy. I've always been easily aroused. Then another thought crosses my mind: I've suffered a lot at the hand of this woman, why shouldn't I enjoy the. Just take themoff and give them here.” Marie Clair stooped and picked them up. Turning, shehanded them to the now seated Mrs. Hardman. “Turn around. Lift your skirt.” “Yes, Mam.” “Put your feet farther apart. Bend over farther. Back up until your legstouch the edge of the couch. Put your feet farther apart. Hold on to yourankles.” Marie Clair was obediently holding that position, waiting, waiting.Thinking, “When is it going to start?” “Good. Just try to bend a little. Hands roamed her stomach and the insides of her thighs. Her breasts were squeezed hard, and suddenly, wherever she looked, it seemed as if there were naked cocks, the boys pushing and jostling to be next to experience her mouth.“Be nice, boys,” she said. “You’ll all get your turn.”They would too, all of them. Just as all of them would have their fingers squeezed by her greedy vagina, just as all of them would taste the hot, creamy arousal that continued to flow, just as all of them would. Liz remembered Nanny’s warnings, but it all ran together in her mind. ‘Four, Ma’am?’ Liz answered hopefully. ‘I’m afraid that it was six. I’m going to give you another two for not keeping track, so that will make eight. Now back over the bed. I want you to count the strokes for me.’ Liz reluctantly bent over the bed again. The cane sliced the air and she cried out. ‘One. Thank you Ma’am’ ‘Two. Thank you Ma’am’ When Liz had counted out and thanked Nanny for eight strokes, Nanny finally put the.