During the divorce, Tiffany had claimed her mother tried to pimp her out to "her dancer friends." When investigators could find no shred of evidence t...o support her claim, she had simply said "She ruined my life. I wouldn't live with that bitch if she was the last woman on earth."She'd ended up in foster care because of it. She had run away three times. The last time she'd been found with heroin tracks on her arms, and wasn't even aware she had been pimped out for real. She had turned eighteen. I laughed and said, "You're too much, you ass exhibitionist you! You want me to help you pull up your shorts?"She said, "But daddy, you haven't even looked yet." Look where my Sweetness?" Right here," pointing at her butthole.I moved so I could see her butthole and she was pushing it out, then it would retract and go in, pushing out, then in pushing out...then I saw it. A peeled part of a banana appeared peaking out of her anus. Her anal ring was stretching out every time she pushed out, and it. She began to caress her breasts, her nipples hard. She ran a hand over her wet, soapy belly until it met the v of her thighs. What had gotten into her, she thought. She hadn't thought about anyone but her husband since they met. But she couldn't help herself. The harder she tried, the more Scott pushed himself into her thoughts. So she went with it. She thought about what it would feel like to make love to him. She put her hands where she wanted his to be, where she hoped his mouth would go.. There he was now following Mistress and Mike, crawling on fours, through a long pathway. He was feeling humiliated walking like this but he did not seem to care anymore. They came in front of a door. Mike opened it and they reached a hall. There was a table on one side. It had whips, crops, paddles, clamps, dildos etc of various sizes and shapes. In center there was bench which seemed especially crafted for BDSM play. He was intrigued but said nothing. On one side there were two chairs. Mike.