"H-Heather?" Diane called out, her voice echoing into the distance, as if she were standing at the bottom of a gigantic cistern."I am slave," Heather ...eplied in a monotone that made Diane shiver.Diane ran up to her and crouched by her side. "Heather, I ... wait." She paused and looked around. She saw nothing in the featureless dark, eerily silent save for the lingering echo of her own voice. "I-I'm going to free you, Heather." Slave is not free," Heather said. "Slave obeys Mistress."Diane. He asked himself the same question and stepped back. His eyes were on his daughter’s beauty. Her curves and shiny bareback. He wants to feel her, he knows it’s wrong she is her little daughter who laughs when he cuddled her but somewhere the father under him is hiding behind bars. He hesitatingly asked her“beta, The blouse is spilling oil.”“I can’t open it pitaji,” Nandita said.She was sensing his hands but the trust she put in him is another thing. He can’t-do anything wrong. Nandita assumes. More

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