You would think that your story would be to fight the Tyrant King. To become some beloved hero that would rise up to slay the armies of the Tyrant Kin... and fell the villain himself. To be praised and cheered for being the greatest of beings in the world... but you're not.You were an unloved villager in an unknown town living an insignificant life. You were born the bastard son of a tavern wench who was knocked up by a passing stranger one night. The moment she could, your mother abandoned you. , Donna," consoled her friend. "Really, I feel great, except for just a couple of things."She glanced pointedly at her tied wrists. Donna apologetically untied one scarf and the freed hand flew to its owner's snatch. Donna looked at her friend vigorously masturbating, her enlarged breasts bouncing, and she thought it was the most wonderful sight she had ever seen. The other ties forgotten, Donna rushed to assist her friend in her clearly more urgent need. With Donna's mouth and hands busily. "I am sorry, but to whom were youaddressing that comment. Was that to just anyone, or was that to yourloving Mistress?"I looked up again, and then cast my eyes downwards. "I am sorryMistress, I fully understand the agreement that we have reached."Now she smiled. "Well that was easy wasn't it? Now, I think that alittle celebration is called for. Why don't you run out and pick up agood bottle of wine and some food to go with it. While you are gone Iwill bathe and change clothes. When you return. She made a couple of notations."You have me swearing off sex. I want to add a paragraph saying that neither you, Mr. Glastonbury, or any agents of yours or his will ever monitor me in my private room. I fully intend to masturbate and I don't intend to be a running joke with the hired help. Nor do I want to see the film running on the TV news or on the Internet."Her stepfather recoiled in surprise. "I suppose." You suppose? Yes or no? Where have I heard that lately?" Yes." Do you understand that.