The ritual of our Saturdays started shortly after that wonderful evening when I became my husbands sex slave. Back then, we both worked weekdays: he w...rked at his office job and I was a bank teller. Last August, we both quit our jobs and devoted ourselves to missionary work, spreading the Living Gods messages. Rose and Daisy Cunningham ordained us themselves, anointing us with their pussy juices and presenting us with a pair of charmssmall, bronze medallions set with rubies and inscribed with. “What’s going on?” I asked. Both Becky and the officer tried to talk at once, with Dum-Dum barking and Charlie talking up a storm to Marilyn. I made the time out signal. “One at a time.”“Who are you?” asked the police officer“I’m Carl Buckman, and this is my wife, Marilyn. We live here. What happened?”Becky was nodding in agreement. Any further response was stopped when another car pulled into the driveway and Becky said, “It’s my mom! I called her, too.”Lauren Devlin hopped from her station. Wendy and us girls had a box of gag gifts we had put together give him but we were going to wait until after everyone had opened their gifts before we gave it to him.In fact we had gag gifts for each other. We had all been shopping at the big adult store at Glen Bernie.We gave Misty, Sarah and Belinda each boots and clothes they could wear at the college and a sizable gift card that they could use at the J. C. Penney's store in Ctown not far from the College.Wendy received some new clothes and. “I need it too,” she said, and then moaned when she felt him stiffening. “Between work and the baby, we have no time to ourselves. I can’t remember the last time I had sex.”Hearing that was enough to free up his tongue through pure incredulity. “But, me?”She gave a little giggle. “We kind of saw this accidentally one day this fall, when you had the windows open and the curtains blew open at the right time.”That was the one point he had in his favor. He was bigger than average - and a shower..