. . Master. . . let me. . . stop . . . cumming.”He increased the pace of His thrusting inside her and His stroking on her clit, “Whose cho...ce, Slut?”She could barely catch her breath as she whispered, “Yours, Master; my life is your choice.”“Always. Remember that, whore,” as he pulled His hand out of her with a pop. She whimpered at the ache of emptiness. His hand and wrist were glistening and dripping with her juices. He smeared the juices on her. Some of the guys had better hygiene than others, but the absolute worst part was always swallowing. She never got used to the slimy texture and salty bitterness. Even with the lingering taste in her mouth and lingering texture in her throat, a fresh new batch was always unpleasant. She didn't take a lunch break that day. There was no time with 70 employees to service and she was pretty much constantly on the verge of throwing up anyway.She did the managers offices last. Every one of them had. But you've only heard about that. What you know about are the your own folk!Merfolk societies are as varied and divers as the fish in the sea. Weather social or solitary, aggressive or harmonious: it's an all you can eat buffet!However, there are 3 important things they all have in common:They're all telepathic and can communicate with all creatures of the sea on some level or other, including non-merfolk such as fish and other sea-creatures. You can even receive and understand faint signals. It’s odd they could afford a private water villa in the Maldives, my husband I had saved up for five years for this anniversary trip. We married young and couldn’t afford a honeymoon, so this was the first big trip we took together as a couple.When the screaming and moaning stopped I was sad to only hear the running water from my bathroom. I wanted them to keep going, I wanted them to be louder.Usually I would have joined Barry in the shower, but I didn’t want to leave the room and risk missing.