“Bunny’s not the only slut I get to fuck tonight, Anya,” Sir teased, thusting himself into her hard when he said my name.“Fuck you, David,” ...he spat, hips rolling, trying to fuck him as he pinned her wrists to the floor.“Be nice, Anya, or I’ll fuck her again and make you watch.”“You wouldn’t dare.”He turned his face, meeting my lust glazed gaze, leering.“What do you think, Bunny? Would you like me to fuck you instead of my wife? Fill that tight little cunt of yours with my cock and make you. I went back out into the living room and started playing a game. It was a fairly sufficient distraction but I still peered at the clock every 5 minutes. I knew it was a longshot but I still held onto the hope that my parents would let me stay up when they got home. We didn’t have a set bedtime during weekends but it kind of went without saying that we’d go to bed when they got home. The clock said 12:45 and they still weren’t home and I actually began to worry a bit. I wasn’t worried long. It left both of us confused about what our relationship was. Although much of our time together, when we could be together, was comfortably sexual, we also experienced satisfying times alone when sex wasn’t the primary motivation for being together. It was something we agreed not to think too hard about and simply allow whatever was to come … to come.When the message came that Mr. Woodburn wanted to see me, it was a day like so many others. The request from Mr. Woodburn was also like so many. We resisted the urge to try on some more of our outfits: 'Just a little freshening up to my hair-do?' peeped Angela. I glared at her, then grinned in resignation as I saw her ponytail lengthen slightly and the band change colour from pink to a soft lavender."Men never notice a new hair-do anyhow," she scoffed.Tobacco--the Captor of Lord Gortikar's pronouncements--was a handsome man with a deep olive complexion. Freddy arrived at his side and introduced him to us."Please excuse me, girls,".