I just wanted them to worry a lot, hopefully not getting a good night’s sleep any time soon,’’ I said.‘‘Can you document everything you said...in there?’’ Andrew asked.I opened my portable office and pulled the six folders out, putting the three I had just confronted on the table. The top sheet was the Pirate Bank Logo and had the account number with the copy of the paper index card with all the real information on the account owner. The paper card was one of the only two places that information. This is a true account of an incident that happened just last week.It was Wednesday and I was in the north of the country making a routine delivery. It was late in the day and I was flirting with Suzi as I was booking in my delivery. Suzi was asking where I would be staying the night as I had already told her I was almost out of driving hours and would need to park up for the night. I had already decided on a location nearby that was quiet and had good facilities and asked why she wanted to. I prayed daddy would give me something, anything at all, to wear, after this perverse inspection of his.I wrapped my arms over my bare chest, but daddy tugged again, and suddenly there were no more barriers between us.“Hmmm, no bra,” he murmured, then condemned me once more, “such a slut.”My skin was breaking into goosebumps at his fiery touch. He was looking intently at me, as if he was appraising a piece of art, all the while he was running his knuckles over my breasts, humming. It was insulting and exciting at thesame time."Wouldn't you Marcy?!" Bill prompted more forcefully.Feeling confident that Mike wouldn't act on it based on what Bill hadsaid earlier about him not being into it, I meekly said, "Yes sir."That wasn't good enough for Bill, "What Marcy? I can't hear you. Speakup you little sissy! You'd love to give Mike a blowjob, wouldn't you?!"Mike just smirked as I responded, more loudly, "Yes sir."Bill still wasn't through humiliating me, "Yes sir, what?"Bill.