I gently parted her legs and went down on her. She did not object. I put my face between her legs and thought I just wanted do to this for a moment o... two. Her pussy was moist, and musty smelling. It tasted good. She had rather large pussy lips. She did not make any noise. My hand found it way under her flannel and I started massaging her tits. I rolled her nipple between my fingers, they were long and thick, just like her daughters'. She just began to breathe a little heavier when a suspect. Crap!What do you say to someone whose death you had ordered when the attempt fails and you then come face to face with them? I had never even considered the possibility, so – naturally – I was at a complete loss for words. What would she say to me, the man who had ordered the murder of her last remaining family? The man who had used her cousins to try and seduce her into joining a life that I knew went against everything she believed in? I braced myself for the worst. Not that she would scream. We made love, for the last time, and she’s at peace.”“The last time? What about a baby?” she asked, sounding confused.“That won’t be making love like it was last night. It’ll be different. Josie will be there and although I’m allowed to enjoy it, that’s not the purpose.”“Allowed?” Stephanie giggled.“Yeah. It’s complicated. I’m sure Jennifer can explain it better. But she truly is a lesbian and sex with me was all about forgetting some terrible things that happened to her. You can ask her on the. I understand perfectly what had happened. I had been simply going through the motions, passively obeying his orders, not desperately seeking to please him as a slave girl should. He, the photographer, had seen this in my body, and had known how best to impress on me my slavery. I looked up at him with a kind of awe and gratitude. In making use of my body, he had reminded me of my place, my role in life. From that point, I adopted my poses with redoubled enthusiasm, and my submission radiated.