Don’t be sad.’ ‘Are you going to die, like my grandpa?’ ‘Do I look that old?’ She nodded, ‘Yes.’ ‘No, I’m not going to die. You gi...ls have to go to your rooms for a few minutes. I need to get out of these wet pants and you don’t need any more male anatomy lessons.’ They both squealed and ran. ‘Ann can you find me some sweat pants, a flannel shirt and some socks?’ She was back quickly with a selection. ‘No bathing for me tonight. I’m tired of water. A little privacy please.’ Ann watched when I. For all intents and purposes, to the world, Darren Somer would be dead. In truth, the writer’s identity as it had been would be dead – reborn as a submissive slave being trained and molded into a perfect plaything, object, and sextoy for its Master. Since nobody knew where Darren had gone on his writing retreat – nobody would come to the farmhouse looking for him.Hearing all of this made Darren’s heart sink. He knew now that he had no recourse – no way to fight the two sadistic intruders who. More

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