I moulded it into many shapes, and showed him the things I’d thought to shape it into. He smiled. In a gully on the property the owner showed us whe...e a large boulder had rolled down to block the stream. Dad sat me down, and took the putty off me. He moulded it into the shape of a candle, and he said, ‘Son, I know Sensei Michio is more of a father to you than I am, as I’m away so often. I’ve one very important lesson for you today. People are like this putty, they can be moulded into many. Now she hangs, some of her weight on her arms, most on her feet. She isalready crying. We fix the cross into its base. We leave and go out into the living room, leaving the dooropen.We talk quietly, listening to her moans in the background. When they stop,we look at each other. It's not time to take her down, but we go in. Somethinghas gone horribly wrong. She is hanging at an odd angle, apparentlyunconscious. The dowel under her right foot has broken off. Her arch is red.More blood stains the. Her soft monotone contained a hint of desperation, like she was happy to answer the question, but that she’d much rather have her mouth wrapped around my cock. “I like the feeling of obedience, of submission.”“Does it turn you on?”“No,” she said without hesitation. “It relaxes me.”I paused. I had a good thing going, obviously - my sister’s saliva dripping from the head of my penis told me that. It was tempting to stick with the status quo. With a mouth as talented as Lucy’s, so what if I never. I always kept a much neater house when I was married, I laughed out loud thinking how demanding my Ex had been about neatness and all I did was run around and pick up after him. He was the slob and I was his live-in maid.It was late afternoon when Peg was pulling into my driveway, the cold January afternoon was cloudy and dark, I had candles lit here and there to warm up the stark living room, and had soft music playing on my IPod and speakers, my Ex had taken all the stereo, TV, etc., “I.