There she saw herself on the floor giggling wearing a tight bodycon dress. It was the party Demora had been at.“Stop it, stop the video.”He did, �...�I’m glad you remember. I want for you to think of it for me now. Close your eyes and remember what it felt like.”She stared at him, unsure of what to do. She knew she was a prisoner. It might be velvet and silk, but a room with no windows and a door locked from the outside screamed prison. She shrunk in fear but pleaded in a meek voice, “But, I. I was the slave. I had to remember that. This was what I wanted. I had to avoid the temptation of giving into the impulse to satiate my own desires. My desires were whatever Daddy and Mommy told me they were.I had to surrender to their will.It made my pussy hotter and hotter. The more I resisted temptation, the more I denied myself, the more like a slave I felt. A slut-slave to my parents. My cunt felt so hot, my vulva puffy. I squirmed on my chair, a growing puddle of my spicy juices forming. More

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