Am I pretty? Am I beautiful?" Yes, you are. Very pretty. Very beautiful." Then, watch."She stood and a couple of feet in front of me, gradually undres...ed. First, her soft, high necked sweater, then her slacks. She took a deep breath, and peeled off thick, warm tights. I could see the first evidence of her abuse; small, round, white scars on the tender skin of her inner thighs. A silk blouse was next, revealing more scars, some round, others straight lines. They were not glaringly obvious, but,. Howard introduced her to the lecturer who, not quite slobbering over her but pulled out all stops in making a good impression to such an extent that she was all giggles and was constantly offering him the array of nibbles and drinks; it was almost as though her husband didn't exist.The lecturer didn't take Howard into any pre activity information; in fact he ignored him and delighted in the way the wife was making herself available. The wine would have helped soften her up but he was sure that. Helen streched forward.-John! Liza's voice was sharp and loud.Helen's eyes met Liza's as she took a firm grip around John's cock. Once more John pushed her hand aside.-I said no.-So ... because your wife doesn't like when another woman wants to play with your cock ... You're not the head of the family, are you? Liza decides everything ...-No, she doesn't. I am the one to decide.-Then it is ok for me to play with your cock, Helen insisted as she stretched forward once more, taking a grip around. Those aches and pains would only get worse. Much worse.As I waited there in the dark, I could sense Alex looking down at me from someplace comfortable ... smiling. He's the architect of all this. This pain, this humiliation and degradation, this house, this hatch, Dominique -- they were all part of a carefully designed plan, a hideous fucking machine with one purpose: to take the darkest and most filthy fantasies from the rotten old man's brain--fantasies that have grown and festered in his.