I told him I'd have whatever Mistress Christine was having. He smiled, then poured a glass of wine for me.Christine was smiling, “You don't have to ...all me Mistress, Camille.”I grinned, “I've heard you called that several times today. I didn't want to be disrespectful.”“You're my guest now, Camille. Please don't be so formal.”I looked at her with a questioning gaze, “Guest, not a captive?”Christine's expression took a severe tone. She handed me a letter to read. I opened it, not knowing what to. My parents had divorced and I chose to stay with my father, mother was a bitch and I could remember a time just before my teens, they had friends over for a dinner, and I had got up to go to the bathroom and passed my parents bedroom, the door was open and they were having intercourse on top of it.I went into the kitchen and the clock read past two in the morning and as I was about to leave, daddy came into the kitchen, he was fully clothed and I wondered why he bothered to get dressed.I went. More

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