A soft voice came over the phone, one I immediately recognized as Emma Watson. She didn't say hi, or ask my name. She simply stated quietly "I need my... orders."."Are you alone?" I asked her, trying to conceal my excitement."Yes." She stated in a quiet monotone."Good. Turn on video chat!" I ordered. Gently but firmly."Okay. One second" she said.I couldn't hold in my excitement, after what seemed like an eternity her face cam turned on. You could tell she hadn't gotten ready yet. She was sitting. I watched him as spread my legs. He looked so handsome as he stroked his cock. Then he kneeled down and entered me from behind. “Your pussy’s so wet.”“Fuck me daddy, fuck me.”“Are you daddy’s slut?”“I’m daddy’s slut.”“Say it again.”“I’m daddy’s slut.”He slapped my ass. It felt so good.He took his cock out and rubbed it around my asshole. He slapped my pussy with his hand. I watched my smile in the in the mirror. He put it back, his cock moved faster and faster and just as I was getting into it. There was some form of mechanism at the neck of the hopper which was fixed above narrow brass tube. As the device lowered the light caught more metal parts, brass and steel, tracks supported by chains. They spread out and hung below the hopper like the spiralling tentacles of some mechanical octopus and as it lowered she realised each track terminated just above the end of each of the poles that pinioned her.Corvinus looked down at her, her big eyes wide with terror, her small but frantic. ”“That’s not a bad idea.”Benny went back to unpacking a box filled with bake-ware. There were casserole dishes of varying sizes, several cookie trays, pie pans, and cake pans. He put them away in a cabinet.“Gladys sure liked to bake.”“In her day, that was the only way to have cookies, cake, or a pie. In our day, almost no one baked anymore. You could go to the store and purchase pies, cakes and cookies that were ‘homemade’ and cut into different sizes. When I was divorced, I used to buy little.