He began slapping me softly as he swinged it back and forth across my face. He asked, "do you want to get fucked."Me,"No, please don't."He slapped me,...what do you say at the end."Me,"please don't daddy."John,"I've been wanting to fuck you for a long time, but if you suck my dick real good, I'll let it pass."He held me by the back of my head, with his dick resting on my face and ordered," start sucking in."I sat there sobbing and he said,"start sucking before I fuck you." I didn't know what to. So I served the meals that were already waiting in the kitchen. I responded to tugs on the leash that rung the little bell, to serve drinks, take away dishes, and bring the next course. On occasion I received punishment for some alleged error, using one of the straps. Several times I was ordered to kneel beside one of the girls, who would feed me from her plate, and allow me a sip of wine from her glass. All the time they chatted among themselves, as they would in a normal restaurant. After. Each person would take their dirty dishes or used glass to the kitchen, rinse it off, and put it in the dishwasher. A casual inspection of the house before breakfast would show every bed was made and nothing out of place.Alice was a good cook. She prepared simple, delicious, and healthy meals. Although she had been married to a Marine and had raised three growing boys who became Marines, she was, at times, astonished by the quantity of food consumed at meal time. Betsy ate as much as any three. On this particular day Ms. P was wearing her usual sexy teacher outfit. A skirt and blouse but this day she seemed to be showing a little more cleavage than any other days before. We would always comment, Jake and I , upon her sex appeal but with her lack of worry about school appropriate attire that day, we felt it less necessary to keep our comments quiet. So Jake and I exchanged thoughts on how Ms. P was dressed and some things that we would like to do to her. One of our comments must have.