ANYTHING!I booked a cabin for the week. It was nice secluded with a hot tub, big screen just the whole works. We arrived, unpacked and while taking a ...ook around I could see this cabin was totally set up for a weekend of sex. I'm talking sex swings in the closet ready to hang from hooks, straps already tied and hidden under the bed and one of those tantra chairs in the bedroom. We went out to dinner and came back to the cabin. At the same time we were pulling up another car pulled in front of. Her body shook with fear; not only of her upcoming mutilation, she knew most women in Somalia and other places in Africa had this done routinely, as a coming of age ritual, but of what it meant. She would not leave this place alive. Her last gleam of hope would be gone. All the slave girls, in the compound, lived in the hope, not of being freed, that just did not happen, but of being sold to some other, perhaps less cruel, less sadistic master; anyone, they believed, would be better than. As we entered our living room Charles was now sitting on the couch. He watched me first enter and saw me holding his dads hand, leading him behind me. He watched as his dad’s eyes were locked on to my ass as I walked in front of him before he looked up to see his son. “hi dad.” Said Charles, a small smile on his face. “I hear you find my wife enjoyable.” He said.“Yes son I do, very much enjoyable.” He said as he reached forward and pinched my bottom. I gave a small “mmm” as he did. “she says. His cock slides into my sopping wet little box and each stroke makes me tremble even harder, feeling like I’m teetering on the brink of collapse. My muscles tense, my cunt tightens, my knees ache. He likes my weakness, I think. He can feel my delicate muscles struggle as he grips me, and he can feel me pushing back to take him further inside me – partly for satisfaction and partly for safety. The harder I push back the easier it is to stay stable. I think he likes the clinking sound of the.