Cleaning seemed unlikely. Quietly, she crept down the stairs to the rec room. TV off, sofa unoccupied, lights—almost off. Peering around the corner,...she saw Dan, in profile, standing at the end bar, his pants riding his ankles. On the counter top lay a magazine—his left hand flipping pages, his right stroking his cock.Shocked and embarrassed to have caught him, Amy's face flushed and her chest tightened. Though they had never talked about self-satisfaction, she assumed—like all guys—he. "Chrissie, you know you can take it. Stop crying!! I've done some research on you and I know you're a fucking whore!" he snarled. "Yes sir" I answered "You're right I am a whore." "Stop your crying or I shall beat you again." he said. "Chrissie darling It doesn't matter that you're a whore. Because I want you to be whore. I want you to be my whore." he said. "Yes Rene...Yes I want to be your whore." I said through my stiffled crying. "That's a good girl Chrissie." he whispered as he took two. More

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