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“And the TV?” With an exasperated sigh, he got back up from the bed. Grabbing his phone from his pants pocket, he turned on the TV. A few seconds later and I was streaming from his phone to the screen in front of me. I couldn’t help but stare, transfixed, at the woman on the screen. Of course I knew that Alex had changed me, had awaken some part of me that had been hidden so deep inside that I was completely unaware of its existence, but seeing pussy it on screen, getting to watch myself, made it all so much more real. When I had shown up to his house that day, I had hated casting him. Hated him for juicy what he was making me do, hated that he had offered such a paltry sum for a sex act that most of the women I girlfriend knew wouldn’t even consider. Hated myself for allowing it. And then something happened. Something more than just amateur an orgasm with a finger in my ass, although certainly tied to that moment. I realized that (even more than Alex, more than my inability to offer any meaningful resistance) the thing I had hated most was what I was becoming. I had hated the fact that his control was turning me on. Hated that it took nothing more than a command and seeing the red light lit up on his camera to turn me into some kind of sexual animal, eager to please even the most sordid demands. I hated that, even with the welts across my ass making laying down painful, I had ground my ass into the bed that night, my fingers pistoning feverishly at my pussy, making wet, squelching sounds so loud I thought my parents must be able to hear me from the next room, but still not caring as I thought about what he had done to me in that basement dungeon of his. And then, with his tongue joining my fingers at my pussy, one solitary finger buried knuckle deep in my ass, I came. Hard. Harder than I had ever cum from my own ministrations, certainly harder than Ryan had ever managed with his inexperienced fingers and lackluster sexy tongue. I came, and as I saw the fingernail marks I had left on him, I understood…something. That may not be the right word, I technically still don’t understand what exactly happened, only that I had forgiven myself in that moment for enjoying such depravity. Or maybe it was that I finally realized that I needed no hooker forgiveness. I had finally experienced the kind of sex I didn’t even know that I was looking for. Like when a child is amateur caught smoking, and you make it chain-smoke a whole pack until they feel sick. “I’ve already thought of that; we’ll put a couple of golf balls in one of my socks and you can you can sew them into the shorts.” “I guess it was too girlfriend personal.” “An excellent suggestion, Julia!” said 'Dad'. Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm as if being orchestrated by an invisible conductor. Ronda helps me pick out three cribs, three swings, and three strollers. Pet, sexy could you give the major an enema bag?” A small part of him, the mad scientist that hooker dwelled in every doctor, casting pussy wanted to dissect and thoroughly examine every part juicy of her body, down to her DNA. Tonight, we had an orgy to enjoy. Most authors brag and brag on their lives, but not Mr. Pine.” Tina said. We have an outstanding force now.