"We usually let the hospice program handle this part, but ... well ... you're forcing me into a corner. Yes, in all likelihood, we're looking at a ter...inal case of cancer."Twenty-four hours later, in the living room of her rented house in Columbia, South Carolina, Josephine hung up her phone and sat staring at the wall before her. There were tears running down her cheek and a heaviness around her heart. It had been Meghan she had just talked to for more than thirty minutes, a tearful, sobbing. There was beauty there as well, but I missed the horizon. Hera shifted the direction I looked to cut off my view of the sea, but not because it was beautiful. She did it so that I could no longer see the tide moving close each time it rose. She wanted me focused on my pain and not the relief from her torture it brought. I think she also liked the fact that I had to watch the water recede as low tide came and announced her return. I could see a school of small, shiny fish like the one the. But then there was the matter of her mouth. Sure she swallowed and lapped up his cum like any good little slave girl should. But his attempts to deep throat her, were not going as well as her pussy and ass training had. Her disobedient reluctance at not taking in his full length, pissing him off.So he wanted to teach her a lesson, he wanted her to feel and experience non stop, what his cock would do to her mouth, day in and day out, in the coming days, months and perhaps years. He looked into. Her name was Francesca.How had he ever sunk to this? It started when he looked at a photo of her, taken a few years ago. He found himself fantasizing about her in the nude. He scanned the photo into his computer, then meticulously used the graphics editor to undress her and embellish her nudity. He and Francesca hardly knew each other. She was a mother of a young child, and had to make do with a part-time job, and what little help she got from a ne'er-do-well abusive husband. He had been in and.