She didn’t introduce herself, instead she just looked at me as I passed through the room. I found you in the bedroom. “We have a housecleaner?” ...“We do.” “But I normally do the cleaning, it’s no big deal.” “Well, she has some special qualifications you might appreciate.” You called to her, and she entered the room. You introduced me as your husband. She smiled.At your request lifted her skirt to display thin panties concealing a large bulge that I assumed was not a cleaning rag. You instructed. . You're not allowed to open the bedroom door yourself...You're trying to fight it, to let daddy sleep a little longer... You even try to distract yourself with a little light fingering... You can feel the plug filling your ass up good.. No wonder you're having so wert dreams lately. You take another look up ay the bed, and you see daddy's cock is in the process of slowly rising... His usual morning wood... It's geting harder and harder, and you can see the veins covering it's surface... You. She led me in behind the door, which opened up into a kitchen area, took be down a hallway to a door where it opened up into a bigger room. There was a raised up "stage" area with a mattress and towel on top of it. Also a bathroom, 3 chairs facing the sex stage that looked like movie theatre chairs and some hooks to hang clothes. She asked me for the money and I got it out and tried to make sure she didn't see that I had more than what we had settled on. She went into the bathroom and opened a. Again and again it fell, the clang of iron and the woman’s screams shattering the air.A last measured blow drove the nail home a final quarter inch, the head tight and dug into the flesh so that the wrist could not move, gripping it tightly to limit the effect of any later struggles so that the hole would not widen too quickly, not tear a gap so she would suddenly bleed to death. It was a bizarre incongruity – the woman’s rounded arm with its delicate blue veins, nailed by a black-headed, oily.