In a brief attempt to defend my pride I will say that we had only a limited number of "encounters" but some of them seem still rather embarrassing for... me even today. In the safety of our mutual trust (we're family after all) we sometimes explored a depth of intimacy (kinkiness) hardly found in a "normal" relationship. I'm sure the sociologists out there will disagree with me but I'm simply trying to understand why we did what we did.I'm most comfortable with the description of the one night. True he brought them the presents, loads of clothes, jewellery. They had the free use of the hairdressers and beauty salons he owned. They never paid for any meals or drinks at his clubs, or bars. So was he using them, and if he was then how did she feel about it? Pissed off, but only because he was not being honest with them. Did she mind being used as a commodity. A prostitute. How would her Mum feel about it, what would she say if she knew, which she clearly didn’t, about being prostituted,. ‘Count’ you order and then spank me with your firm large hand.‘One thank you daddy’ I say flinching from the sting.My ass still raw from your penetration and my asshole still slack and wanting. Another smack on the same cheek - it hurts but I manage ‘two thank you daddy’.You continue 5 on each cheek and the warmth of the sting spreads across my whole ass and pussy. My juices leaking steadily down my thighs.‘Look how wet you are, you loved that didn’t you baby girl; what a mess you are’ running. ’ ‘Ok,’ Malcolm tried to sound befuddled but she had nailed his size in one guess. ‘Now if you want to look like a real whore then we had better get you some stockings, we can get stay-ups or we can get the type that require garters or a suspender belt, what do you think?’ ‘Definitely suspender belt!’ Malcolm responded a little to eagerly. Angie looked quizzically at her brother and he reddened. ‘Angie, I’m a man so I have seen plenty of pictures of scantily clad women in my time and the sexy.