"I demand you let us go," she said. It's all in the way it's said - tone of voice and facial expressions. Hers were a bluff."Boo!" I barked as I lunge... at her.She squealed and fell off the bed."I'm leaving now," I said. "Come kiss me good-bye."She didn't move so I did, grabbing a handful of hair and slowly lifting her to her feet. Her hands were wrapped around my wrist to support her weight. I pushed her back on the bed, pinning her body with my weight, and holding her hands over her head in. Theyare nothing more then delinquents she would muse to herself.She had found herself at her wits end. The boy was too much like hisfather. A man Samantha had once been bedded by in a moment of lust anddesire. Afterwards when he had found out she had become pregnant with hischild he disappeared. He left her alone and wanted nothing to do with thechild he conceived with her. This changed Samantha as she grew to learnshe could be a strong, powerful and dominate woman, one who did not torely on. Pretty soon, she was humping and gasping again, and I hoped to bring her off more quickly the second time.Daddy rumbled something and Jack rumbled something but I was busy doing what I was supposed to be doing -- so I jumped when a wet finger made contact with my bung! I clenched up, but Jack hit me on the butt with that damned whip and said, "Relax, or you won't like this at all!" I couldn't do it, but whoever was playing with my bung was patient, wasn't forcing things, and was well-lubricated. Girls or executives or maids tied up like frogs or sows for slaughter, with gagballs in their mouths, with or without masks, with or without covered eyes. Tied hands behind the back or with those long leather gloves beyond the elbows, with the elbows precisely pressed against each other that make the breasts of the submissive slaves stand out - as I want to be. Then the ropes that go from the feet to the neck and shoulders, tight so that the girls' bodies are arched, some with more or less pain.