The aliens seemed to prefer the rat’s nest style of bedding to folded sheets.Why was his heart beating so fast? He had slept with her the night befo...e, and nothing untoward had happened. Maybe he was making a big fuss over nothing? He half expected to turn around to see her disrobing, but she was still wearing her camouflaged sweatpants and her turtleneck sweater, at least there was that. He noticed that her tail was flicking back and forth again, she must be anticipating something.“Will you do. Riding back to Dunadd we found the settlement in something of a stir. It seemed that Duncan and his men, some forty of them, had been riding south through his territory of Knapdale when they had saw smoke rising from the area of the settlement of Kilberry. Riding hard they had fallen upon a group of Norsemen who were sacking the place and a fight had ensued. Although the Danes had been driven off Duncan himself had been fatally wounded and his body now lay in the hall at Dunadd.The King was in. He doesn’t even notice the white hot flame of anger that must be burning in my eyes.“This is a party for my tenth anniversary at the hospital. My colleagues went to great lengths to honor my tenure and you seem to not give a damn about it.” I answer him. “Just get into a suit. We are going to the party. Tomorrow you can fuck her as often as you can get it up.”He will want to have a threesome again. Why the fuck does he have to get off to us sucking his loads out of the other’s pussy. My fucking. With the use of one word, all of my power over them vanishes.This always brings up a question that I've wrestled with quite frequently; In the sexual Master/slave relationship, which one REALLY has the ultimate power?Who is truly at the mercy of the other one?Once you go down this rabbit hole, you find yourself in a spiral of questions, answers, reasons, excuses, questions, answers, etc. All of it full of what at times seems like a paradox stacked atop another paradox. Does that even make any.