"Since you…You were small…Mistress." My dad answered, breathing heavily now and he was just squeezing his prick, not stroking himself at all lest ...e cum. "How small, daddy?" I licked my lips, staring into his eyes. "How old was I when you first thought about fucking me?" "Uh…" He swallowed thickly. "…f******n…or fifteen…maybe…Mistress." "Oh, you're a bad daddy aren't you, slave?" I chuckled and he nodded. "What's that? I can't hear you." "Y-Yes, Mistress." "Yes what?" I tilted my head. "Yes,. Who knew.I had other problems. Mr. Gunderson's coat was made of some substance not unlike felt, and it really wasn't meant to be worn against the skin; it itched abominably, and it made me miserable. I squirmed and shuffled my shoulders and couldn't do anything to stop it. "Something wrong," Meredith asked, and I answered, "It's this coat. It's itchy." So, take it off," Meredith said reasonably. Which was actually the perfect answer. So I did.The coat passed from hand to hand down the table,. More

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