I could feel my juices building as dad had flexed his dick in his shorts. I moved my hand to touch him. I traced him and began to undo his shorts. ... moved back as he lifted up to let me pull his shorts down. I moved further to his knees and held on to his dick and began to stroke him. Dad, lifted my shirt to pull over my head, before touching my nipples again. I let out a loud moan as dad, moved down to suck each on, through my bra. My pussy is twitching and filling with my cum. I want. ”“Yes, Master,” Diane moaned, her violet eyes falling on me, her body quivering as I felt her desires growing with the urge to eat pussy. My pussy.Kurtis’s work.He played with her desires, molding her to be the perfect sex slave for our harem. Diane would be happy never realizing just how she had been twisted and bent to fit into the lock. The perfect key to fit Kurtis’s desires.And a happy slave was the best sort. Who served out of desire and not fear. Who genuinely wanted to please you with. Now she was desperate for them to offer her the job.“I’m still waiting for an answer to my previous question.” said Michelle, impatiently “Do you like being put on display like this?”“Yes, I do.” Carla responded quickly. She was learning that Michelle didn’t stand for any nonsense.“Tell me honestly: how does it make you feel?” asked Michelle.“Horny,” answered Carla. “It turns me on knowing that I’m exposed, vulnerable; that you’re both staring at me. It’s making me wet.”“Hmm, good answer.”. Oh shit... it was Morgan Bryant! The Morgan Bryant – my absolute favourite country music artist I had specifically flown all the way from Australia to see. “Mind if I sit?” All I could do was nod... then panic as I realised the nod could have suggested that I did, in fact, mind. I stuttered, “Sure, uh... yes... please sit.” My face burned bright red as I realised I had just told THE Morgan Bryant to “sit” as though I was commanding my two cattle dogs – Diesel and Dixie – back home on the farm..