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Then it was dinnertime and oh god, how she loved that. Often before she’d even had a chance to swallow his cum, Donald would snap his fingers again and indicate the kitchen with a jerk of his thumb, and Anita would hasten to obey, always remembering to first replace his cock in his pants and zip him up again before getting back on her feet and padding away on her bare feet to prepare his dinner. The bottom drawer, next to the stove, was where she kept the special apron she wore only on Slave Nights. It was really a pitiful excuse for an apron: a tiny, translucent piece of lacy white fabric that barely covered her loins and was tied behind her with a ridiculously huge bow. But she loved how feminine it made her feel, loved the way it somehow made her feel even more naked, especially in combination with her collar. Of course since Don was always the first one home, he usually had dinner well under way and all Anita needed to do was set the table and place the asian food into serving dishes. And on these special nights she always took extra care, using the nicest placemats and silverware, pouring wine and water into their respective glasses, lighting a single tall candle in the middle of the table. When everything was perfect she would pull her husband’s chair away from the table, making it ready for him, and then she would take her kneeling position beside it and simply wait. Don could tell by the silence that it was time for him to make his entrance. He would walk in casually, ignoring her as before, and seat himself, pulling his chair up to the table smartly. He would take a moment to look over the table setting and if everything met with his satisfaction he would simply nod, indicating that Anita could begin to serve. But if some small thing wasn’t right – and Anita usually made sure that this was the case, placing his silverware in the wrong order, for example – he would snap his fingers again and point at the offending object. Anita would rise to her feet and bend over fetish the table to make the correction. Then she would remain in that position while Don gave her as many slaps on teen the ass as he felt her transgression warranted. If there were no further mistakes to be corrected Anita was allowed to begin serving. This was another highlight of her evening, walking back and forth from the stove and counter, often with her behind red and tingling, offering him each dish, like a well-trained slave-girl should, and filling his plate until he held up his hand, signaling that he had enough. Then resuming her kneeling position at his side while he ate. She knew there was no danger of her going hungry, of course. On these nights Don always accepted much more food than he actually wanted, and even some dishes that he didn’t particularly care for but knew that Anita liked. And when he was done he would simply pick up his plate, turn in his seat and begin to feed her. Oh, she loved that so much! Maybe that was the best part: kneeling there beside him, hands resting empty on her thighs, opening her mouth while he carefully Toys raised a spoon or fork and fed her like a baby bird, sometimes even allowing her to eat directly from the palm of his hand like a favored pet. Sometimes she would deliberately allow some food to miss her mouth and run down her chin, knowing that Don would gently clean her up with his napkin - and then pinch her nipples hard for thirty seconds as a punishment. Mmmmm…. After dinner Don would rise from his chair and proceed to the living room. Anita would follow and while Don was settling himself in his favorite chair she would turn on the television and stand beside it, waiting his instructions. He would tell her what show or movie he wanted to watch and Anita would set it up for him, adjusting the volume to his preference once it began. Then at his nod, indicating that everything was correct, Anita would quickly return to the kitchen to remove and store her apron before returning to kneel beside his chair, naked once more but for her collar. Often he would absently stroke her hair or massage her neck while he watched, and this always made her wish she could purr for him. After a while he would generally snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of his feet and Anita would hasten to take her position there, where she would loosen and remove each of his shoes in turn, placing them beside his chair. Then at a second snap of his fingers she would get on her hands and knees facing the screen, her legs parted and her behind directly in front of him. As soon as she was properly positioned he would raise his feet from the floor and rest them on the small of her back, using her as a footstool. Sometimes she couldn’t help but imagine the people she worked with seeing her at this moment of utter submission - and a shiver would run through her entire body. Then she and Don would watch together; he in his chair, she on her hands and knees. But that wasn’t all, not nearly. Whenever he felt like it - during commercials, for instance - Don would remove his feet from her back and sit forward in his chair. Then he would begin to fondle Anita, lightly stroking with his fingertips the welts he had raised on her behind and thighs, wetting his fingers in her pussy, teasing the entrance to her anal passage, even kneeling and straddling her from behind, seizing her by the hips and crudely rubbing his erection up and down between her ass cheeks. Oh god, if she hadn’t felt completely like his slave-girl and possession by then this treatment never failed to cast its spell over her. And she was not permitted to move. Nor was she allowed to moan, whimper or cry out, no matter what japanese the provocation. Though she always did. Meanwhile back at the ranch/farm house things were progressing Hardin’s way. “Actually teen those all sound really freaking hot. “Just wait a minute Missy,” I said, opening my zipper. Brock’s cock pressed to mine, his pulsing rigidity a contrast to Yavara’s tender depths, constricting around the both of us in a vice-hold, her rim stretching to an ovoid ruin. Of course I will, Master, I think. “The kid threw a piss-filled water balloon at you? Congratulations to both of you. "No! She hasn't got any on." “Try me.” I can’t promise a hundred percent it will happen, or exactly when. I fell to my knees and kissed her hard. any question and i did not want my cock to slide out of her asian i want it to be inside her forever. When he joined her at the kitchen table a short while later, she blushed as she thanked him for her surprise. “Fuck it I have japanese to” Zach said as he unzipped his pants and put his hand on the now throbbing dick that laid in waiting under his underpants. Just got into bed She is moaning into Jill's pussy. Obediently, I went to her bedroom, undressed, and lay on her Toys bed. I loved giving my pussy to my uncle’s retarded roommate. We were dog tired. Kenny went in for a hug. I took the knife off him and threw it across the floor under the cubicle partitions. The party broke up around six with everyone coming forward to hug and kiss, shake hands, and give us an envelope. They pulled around back, and there sat the big bus, out of view of the restaurant windows. If you do not, you will all die.” In the ring, May twirled Sarah's knickers around on her finger in circles as fetish she decided who to toss them to.