Performance based. I make money. You spend it. Country club memberships, private lessons, exotic vacations, designer clothes. The best. Only the best....I love cleaning up after you. I love that you leave your soiled panties on the floor for me. A gift. A treasure. I lie on the floor and bury my nose in your silky panties, inhaling deeply. I run my tongue on the cotton crotch searching for every trace, every taste, of your days, your nights, your lovers. I love painting your toenails. I lie on my. Nathaniel was talking to one of his guards when they arrived.“Oh, shit! Who the fuck are these?” the man exclaimed as he saw the procession approach.Nathaniel smiled. The woman really knew how to make an entrance.“That is our new guard captain. I think there are going to be some changes around here, don’t you?”“Changes? Most of the men are going to shit themselves. Where the fuck did you find them?”“That’s Sir Donald of Holmvale. He’s the man that did for Eric, yesterday.”“Eric fucked with. She did this at least once every day for weeks dad says. He did not go every time she told him to meet her in the barn. It was working on him big time because he said that is when he started to play with his d**k. He says that Aunt Lucy told him it was ok if he wanted to play with "his thingy" if he wanted to after she saw him playing with it from out side of his pants. He says to this day he remembers the first time he shot a load of cum. He was sitting up against the hay on the same. 'Happy Christmas darling Em, lots of love from Mummy.'Shocks number two and three, how could Margaret with all her formality submit to a pet name, and why had I never in all the time I'd know her, ever considered that she must have a family? And finally, the words, 'lots of love from Mummy.' That was all it took to break me. I began to shake uncontrollably. Emotions that I had buried under selfish fun and sexual depravity erupted as explosively as an orgasm, but with no pleasure and peace to.