She screamed inside the box and writhed but couldn’t get away as she felt him, both hands on her hips now holding her just enough to stay inside her... violating her ever so slowly. On screen the girl had her free leg twined up around his and he let her move around a bit, using her struggle, every twist and buck to push farther into her. He was all the way in now. She could feel his thighs against her ass, not moving. On screen he stopped pushing and ran a hand down her spine, like he was. She was a strict disciplinarian, but never crossed the line and for a majority of the time, she treated us with love and respect. We were clothed, fed, taken to school, and enjoyed occasional vacations.I never could recall what happened to my parents or how I became a foster daughter to Mother. While I couldn’t remember the start, there are a few things I remember quite vividly from my experience with Mother, particularly from my rebellious phase when I was seventeen.“Did you hear me girl?”. More

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