"You play that part of Salome because it's art," he'd complain, slow and confused. "But what is art, Luc? Tell me. Tell me what you think." I'm not qu...lified to answer," she would answer, striking a dud note and staring disbelievingly at the keyboard. "I sing because I'm a singer and I'm in need of the work. I do it because I have to and not for any higher spiritual reason, and certainly not because it's called art." But it isn't art, it's licentious," Howard would complain. "That Strauss Opera. But, through the steam, he seemed fine with it, saying, in a more pronounced accent, “Much better yes?” I told him that it felt good, and he said, “It gets better if you touch it, like this,” he said, laying his hand over the shaft of his cock, which was getting hard. I did the same, and we watched other for a bit, stroking together. He pinched his nipples and I did the same, and, for a bit, we were sortof copying each other. It was very playful. Then he stood up. I did the same. He put his. ?Leave now", I heard Mistress Jasmine saying. ?I deal with you later."I heard the heels of the maid clicking away on the floor and onlyMistress and I were in the room now. She stepped behind me and all ofa sudden with a cracking sound a whip landed hard on my behind. Inquick succession 20 blows rained on my butt and in no time I was asobbing wreck. My ass hurt like hell.?That is for letting my maid dominate you. I am the one whodominates in this house, not she. Never forget that again. You. “Let’s play a game. I want to know if I can make you climax before you die again.”Before she could respond, his fingers closed around her throat like boa constrictors. Fear flooded her, so intense it almost blocked the pain of being raped. She fought for air, shaking her head from side to side, trying to let even a molecule slip by. He was pressing down, not just on her windpipe, but on the carotid arteries in her neck. Her brain was being deprived of oxygen, she could feel the blood getting.