For a few seconds, I did not know what to say or do. I knew why she was angry at me but was not sure why she was surprised. And then my eyes went down...and noticed she wasn’t wearing anything, nothing at all. She was standing all naked in front of me and I was looking at her with wide eyes. She was the first one to react as she ran towards her bedroom and then I ran out of the house like a cat.As soon as I reached out, I was huffing and puffing. My breathing was heavy and I did not know what to. After tracing my body with my hands, feeling every curve and line, I decided to leave my heels on as I walked to the shower. In a drawer in the bathroom cabinet, I decided on the toys I wanted to use. After placing them on the shelf in the shower, I retrieved a large soft towel from the cabinet and hung it next to the shower door. Once more I looked at my body in the mirror and, after slipping off my heels, I climbed into the shower. It was times like these that I was glad I had the shower. Being marked makes me feel owned, and serves as a constant reminder of my submission.Just last week, at my very first munch, we had an evening picnic with floodlights and barbeques. While sitting on blankets and munching hotdogs and steak sandwiches, one of the regular girls asked, "What is the difference between a slave and a submissive?" After a few protests that the subject had been beaten to death, two girls spoke up, saying they'd really like to know.Without thinking I offered, "A. Easier said than done when all you wanted to do was hit a home run before letting go with the fireworks. Wincing, I felt Mom tighten her ass as I continued to slowly feed her more of my trapped organ into her. Fuck. It was like we were doing a weird fucking dance between us as Mom controlled my insertion by loosening up a little so I could shove another inch or so inside her lower bowel. Every inch taken made her yelp with her shaking her head furiously and wriggling her backside as I tried to.