“You know this is wrong, Mark. You’re marrying my daughter this afternoon!” she moaned as I stroked her tits.
“If it’s so wrong, why don’t you just stop me?”
“Mmmm… You know I can’t do that!”
“And why is that?”
“You know that, too.”
“Humour me.”
“Because… I’m your slave.” she replied, whispering.
“Say it again. Louder”
“I’m your slave. I’m your sex slave.” she said, this time with much more conviction.
“That’s right. You’re my slave. And who else is my sex slave?”
“My daughter. Erica is your sex slave.”
“Right again. And one last question… Who helped me to brainwash your daughter into becoming a sex slave like you?”
“Me. I helped you brainwash my daughter.”
“Three out of three! Now, if you’re my slaves, that makes me your Master. And if I’m your Master, you have to obey my commands. Yes?”
“Yes. Master.” she replied, giving him the satisfaction of his title.
“Good. Now, no more arguments. I’ll decide what’s wrong and right for you and Erica. And you, slave will kneel and show me the proper respect.”
“Yes, Master. Your slave obeys.” she said quietly with a smile as she turned to sink to her knees.