Violet gasped and frowned at him in anger, unable to control her annoyance with him despite how much he was turning her on. “What the fuck?” she yelled. Her father placed the empty plate on the side and used his free hand to slap her swiftly across the face. The shock of it made her speechless. “Only good girls get fed,” Patrick said, “Now get on the floor.” Still reeling, but unnerved by the edge in her father's voice that used to terrify her as a child, she obeyed and got down on her hands and knees on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor. Patrick sat down at the kitchen table and began eating his food. He could feel Violet's eyes bearing into him, but he took satisfaction in knowing that the worst punishment he could give her was to ignore her, as he had done for most of her life. He ate as though he was alone in the room, refusing to acknowledge her presence at all. He decided that if she remained silent and didn't start acting up for attention he would save her some food. It was all part of the training process. The floor was hard enough to hurt Violet's bones, but she sat there anyway. Her father had his back to her, and she would wait for him to finish eating before she spoke again. Perhaps if she apologised nicely enough he would remember that she was his daughter and make her indian some more food. After a few minutes, which to Violet agonizingly felt like hours, Patrick turned to her and clicked his fingers before pointing to the floor near his feet. She crawled over to him and could see his eyes lingering on her backside which she kept high in the air for him. He placed the plate with some food he had left on he floor. Without a word, holding her weight up with her hands, she bent her head and ate his offerings off the plate with just her mouth. She looked up at him when she had finished and he laughed warmly. He licked his thumb and wiped away traces of sauce from her lips and chin. Patrick felt as though he had made his point clear, and now she had submitted this far he was intrigued to push even further. “Stay,” he told her sternly before he retrieved the knife he had used to chop their food with. Very slowly he began cutting the clothes from her body, ruining the material and tossing them to one side. Violet had learned her lesson; despite the slightly puzzled look on her face she didn't dare question her father again. Just the tiniest whimper of discomfort escaped her lips when he removed her bra, exposing her full perky breast and hardening pink nipples, and then finally her underwear. It was so relaxing and I loved the treatments I got. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. His external fuel tanks were now empty - he hit the release button and felt a jolt as they left the aircraft. My hands found his hips as I melted into the moment. And I didn't want to bother them, because there was no telling what those two were up to. Part of the transformation derived from some really tough happenings in his life, including his near miss with death over his drinking. Zane pointed the camera at her and asked “You’re sure you want to do this?” Sara read my face and just smiled. Then, they receded indian like the tide. Your cock in my ass is magic daddy, it feel so nice and slick, feeling it move in and out, he said. This was just the second time we got together but she was not being timid, shy or reluctant. “Some do,” he admitted. Despite the glasses he wore, you'd never mistake him for a nerd. He twisted my nipples. It always was. There are other politicians I can use. A submissive like you, Deepti, a bitch to dogs and a slut to men, would be fun to play with.” “Is _anyone_ allowed to touch you, Zoe?” the problem part of my brain treating this like it was a programming exercise. He held his hands on both side of my hips and pushed me little away from him and admired my hairy pussy for some time and buried his head into my crotch, smelled the sweet aroma and gently kissed it.