" I clear my throat and grip his large hand gently. "That is an extraordinarily generous donation, Mr Knight," I somehow manage to stammer, clearing m... throat again."Well, it's a worthy cause. You're father's a good man. There's no one I would rather see as mayor of this place." He says, not like the others who gush and fluster over it, but with complete sincerity born of what appears to be a steely determination and confidence of a man so sure of himself he needs no one to tell him anything. I made them my slaves. It’s been 3 years now, they both still are my slaves!I ordered various BDSM toys from the internet to torture them. No matter, how much they scream no one could hear them scream (as we were in a distant place). I whipped both of them daily on their pussy, ass and tits.On Mondays to Saturdays, 20- 20 whips on their pussy, ass and tits for each of them. And on Sundays, 50 whips for each on pussy, ass, tits. On every mistake they make, the punishment gets bigger, the more. "Oh fuck~!" She let out a scream of orgasm. She was quivering and I could feel the muscles of her uterus contracting. A small jet of juice trickled out and stained the couch. I knew she wasn't faking it and that she really came. The contractions were tightening up around my cock and already I could feel my own orgasm coming. "Kim, I'm going to cum." She looked at me, "It's okay, you can cum inside of me. Let it all out, fill me up." That's what I exactly intend to do. Without hesitation, I. Words. Words. ‘Echoes.’ ‘Of?’ Composed. It’s forgotten. ‘Things that’ve already been said. Or sounded. Or made.’ ‘Viruses? Loops?’ ‘Quotes.’ Pause. ‘Writer’s block?’ ‘No…but…’ ‘Plagiarism.’ His affect is sour. ‘Words, words, words.’ The sky darkened. She had lost time. ‘Hamlet.’ His face twitches. That same small tic. He is unaware of smiling. She had pleased him more than she could know. ‘My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Words without thoughts never to heaven go.’ Her skin reddens.
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