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I will never abuse you physically beyond your limits. Instead, I will use pain to push you to new precipices of pleasure, some of which might be quite difficult for you to endure. But in those cases, it is your own body, and your own mind, that are responding to what is happening to you, and it is they that are reaching climax." I don't quite understand, Mistress." Simply put, my dear slave, your own desire to submit and the pleasure you derive from it is a far crueler Mistress than I will ever be. Just as hypnosis is something that your mind allows to happen, so too the climaxes that you felt tonight were your own body's doing. Submission to me, whether through my hypnosis or through my punishment, is a means of unlocking what you truly desire. Does that make more sense?" Yes, Mistress. I suppose I've been pretty repressed up until now." Yes, indeed. And it might have prevented you from ever having the relationship with Sandy that you always craved, as well as keeping you from the. It was a splendid view of a daughter’s womanhood challenging her father’s manhood. I pushed my throbbing manhood with one thrust in my baby’s pussy and she squealed with heavenly pleasure. We kept pumping in unison, increasing and decreasing our speed to delay our climax. Time was running out as my wife and son in law could return any time. So we started pumping fiercely and soon we were at our climax. I felt a twitch in my balls and spasm in the sphincter of my ass hole. My daughter clenched her legs around my thighs, her fingers and toes curled and body twisted. We both growled like a lion and lioness and squirted our juices together. We kept pumping in a squishing sound till the last drops of our cream were out of our genitals. I planted a deep and loving kiss at her lips and asked her to quickly wash as the other inmates were about to return any time. “Don’t be scared papa, mom and Osama know what we are doing”, my daughter replied while smiling cheekily. “What?” I looked in her.
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The only sport I was any good at was dodgeball. I was fast and agile compared to the other kids and they rarelyever hit me. Still, I tried my best at all the same sports my brother wasin, but my real interests lied in the arts. While my brother was goodenough or old enough to participate in tournaments, I sat on thesidelines making up songs and practicing my singing. I remember sharingmy interests with my family on the car ride home. I was about four orfive years old and had been working on a song for the 3 hours we were atmy brother's soccer tournament. They laughed. That laugh would haunt meuntil my dying day. After what they must have thought was some goodnatured teasing we got home and I vowed never to sing in front of othersagain. It was a vow I kept until my junior year of high school.Around the time I gave up singing I learned to draw and to write. Mymother was a bit of an artist herself and would often criticize my workbefore one-upping. I would draw a cave man quality horse.

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